No one understands the reason for living,
many prefer to receive without giving.
In a world full of selfish behaviour,
solitude has become my silent saviour.
Instruments are repressed without musicians,
as some kill the music before auditions.
My harp cares not for words about tradition,
ignores fake applause for romantic fiction.
Love is a way of life, yet some bring it shame,
mercy cannot sin, feelings are not a game.
People point fingers to those without a name,
what will they do when there's no one left to blame?
I'm no Romeo, I need no Juliet,
I've loved and lost, broken hearts I still regret.
24 August 2019