Condescending eyes shallowed by the slow hands stabbing at dragging hours

stare intently at the dark scratches upon a once pure surface.

They tire not of passing judgement upon those "lesser" to them,

demanding the same respect we must earn.

The halls of the past linger within them,

brushing the present all too firmly with reminders of what used to be.

Agression is placed firmly on the shoulders of the weary and innocent

who wander with blind eyes toward an unknown future.

The hand of guidance is lost within the bitterness and shadows of empty finance.

We return only to accept another beating within our souls and minds as free thought is drown in a sea of memorization.

Are we to blame?