I'm giving up on the strange letters,
strange songs, strange melodies, strange figures...
They dance on staves of straight lines,
but nothing is ever straight about them;
confusing meanings and hidden ideas...

There were times when it all made sense,
but these days, criminal artists and foregoing musicians;
they slander my oaths and my beliefs.

Why should I stand and watch,
why should I take in the drama and the sad scourges.
There used to be times when it rocked my world.
Now all I hear is the sound of noise,
crazy fringes of reality;
mostly darker than rainy afternoons; blacker than night.

Song birds and whistling poultry...
ringing strings of pianos and dulcet tones of violins,
all tapering into one large ocean of discordant ideas,
the terrible kind, not the good and reputable kind.

I forgive the world for it's sins,
but I can never let go of how it's changed.
Amen