The grass withers
The flower fades
Will anyone stay?

Twenty-three and counting
They've all left
Will I be left alone?

It's not their fault
But they still left
Who will be next?

Yet I keep remembering them
Only their bodies will truly leave
Will I see them again?

I've left some too
It was so hard
Will they remember me?

This disease that plagues so many
It kills
With bridges
With pills
With knives
With guns
It seems there is no escape
It seems to affect any

But love
It breaks down walls
It saves so many
It heals
It gives hope
It stays
We could save so many
If we just love

I hear the flute
Its joyful melody.
I see my wife
Our daughter Melody.
I think of my wife
And her full of life
With our daughter, Melody.

I hear the crash
And then the tuba.
I hear naught else
It's just the tuba.
I think of the life
Who destroyed my wife
Our cursed daughter, Melody.

I hear trombones
It's getting better.
I see the day
It's getting brighter.
I think of the life
That destroyed my life
My blameless daughter, Melody.

I hear the horns
Their far-spread high-notes.
But mostly horns
And mostly low notes.
I think of my wife
And the love of her life
Our damning daughter, Melody.

I hear the trumpet
The different rhythm.
It has some movement
But mostly rhythm.
It's not the same
But it'll do
My beautiful daughter, Melody.

I hear clarinets
Their soaring melody.
Reminds me so much of
My daughter Melody.
Who came out of strife
To salvage my life
My angel daughter, Melody.

Think about the people you hurt
Is it really worth it?
What is it about this world?
Why would you leave it?

This is my plea:
     Live
     Hope
     Love

Don't try again
Please

We don't see unity
We are right
     They are wrong
We have truth
     They do not

We divide over the simplest of things
We are straight
     They are not
We are white
     They are not

We hate
We block
We hurt

Why must we betray each other?
Why?

A tree,
A jacaranda tree, once tall, majestic,
Its purple blossoms littering the ground,
Its fern-like leaves bring shade to all around.

The rings,
We count the rings on the stump,
As the lumberjacks drive away,
Leaving stripped branches and leaves to decay.

Years will pass,
As leaves decay, years will pass,
But not all is lost, and as the life fades away,
Something new sprouts up, something here to stay.

Dead father,
It draws life from its long-dead father,
Using its nutrients, being fed,
Life, sprouting out of stump long thought dead.

A shoot,
A growing, flourishing, feeding shoot,
Only one thing that it could be,
A massive, flowering, majestic shading tree.

All this,
From a stump, a remnant of a tree,
Life, sprouting from stump thought dead,
Replacing something very old with something new instead.