Music

In our youth
We played music till all else failed
Our dirty, worn skin
Saved us through the years,

Obligations fleets us,
Worry fleets us,
And only the slowly setting sun gives others rest

Comfort is a shell half empty,
Accompanied by young, beautiful people
Ignorant to struggle,
Listening to the sweet rhythm pounding off our walls

Carefully crafted hair and clothes
Protecting us, like our skin
Music protects us
From the world we deserted
In our youth