Look me in the eye

I can't seem to figure out where I've left my moral compass. I left it around here somewhere, I know I did, and while I'm looking for it, while I'm frantically searching, I keep looking over my shoulder, paranoid that someone is on to me. Judging me. Because I've obviously misplaced my moral marker, and now I just know that everyone is talking. Everyone knows. Everyone can see what I'm doing, acting like it doesn't phase me, and they're whispering. I'm walking into a room; they're averting their eyes.