I hear the same words
Coming from different
Mouths in slow motion,
With great conviction,
No doubts or hesitation.
They all describe
A disconsolate landscape of
Hopelessness and futility,
An entrenched acceptance of
Callousness and cruelty.
We’re all on our own,
They mutter grimly.
I’m transported to their
Formative years when someone
Important told them that.