Small woman, frail, pale,
Red hair and freckles,
You look so serious as you read
Your Action for World Development newsletter.

Like earnest people everywhere
You seem cause-ridden,
Striving to find meaning in life
Where meaning no longer exists.

Dead gods and their religions cast aside
With the litter of disposable society,
Disposable ideals,
Have left behind a vacuum

That you are drawn to fill.
And in pursuing such a goal
You may be doomed to failure
But, determined yet, you try.