Dear nameless youth,

With the devil-may-cry look,

Who carries his rifle,

So full of disdain.

In the back of the group you hunch,

A face cynical and introverted,

We look up from time to time,

And see your unwavering gaze.

Dear Nameless Madonna,

A daughter poised for the good-bad world,

So calm and astute,

So entitled.

At the front you sit,

Admired by all,

Now forgotten,

A yellowing memory on the wall.

Dear nameless professor,

With the shiny-bald head,

A moustache like snow,

So full of pompous arrogance.

To the side you stand,

Ignorant and disinterested,

Their lives and spirit you shattered,

Now nothing more than a reminder.

Dear nameless woman,

With the dolled-bob hair,

Lips dark as blood,

So full of maternal pride.

What would you say I wonder?

If you saw us now,

So scantily clad and respect less,

Ignoring your scrutiny from the wall.