Her cold talons grip the minds of youth,
Slipping into their thoughts,
Leaving them unsympathetic to the utter chaos
Surrounding and suffocating them
As they sit in silence, ignoring the pain.
She is a hawk, talons sharpened and gripping tight.
Her claws destroying any care or love for another.
But it doesn’t matter. Why would it? Who cares?
Not he nor her nor the student in the chair.
Perhaps the child in the crib, not yet found.
She sees pain and reacts, weeping as others weep.
But soon Apathy will find her, tired of the constant
Despair shown on the screen she watches idly.
Her thoughts fade away from the screams,
To that final resting place in her mind.