I wonder, why me?
I wonder, what did I do to deserve this?
But then I got back -
Back to the music that was and is my life.
Did it really mean anything to anyone? Did it change anyone’s
Heart, to help them do better?
And then I remember -
How he shot me, left me on the street - dead, dying, decaying.
Left me there with a look of such hatred and loathing,
A dark, deep loathing for me.
And I remember thinking - why did this happen to me?
But then I realize - it was the music.
He was a man who had written me a letter a few weeks back
Telling me that my music and I,
My lilting, soothing, jazz, on my ages-old saxophone,
Was incompetent, inconceivably ridiculous, a waste.
Telling me to get out, and that if he ever saw me again, I was a dead man!
I hadn’t thought he meant it - he seemed delusional.
But I guess he had.
And then the music took me in its arms, calling for me, reasoning with me. Listen to me, it said.
And I realize - that man had Listened - Listened to the music, my music. And it had installed in him Such a deep opposition that he sought to take my life!
And I realize - if my music did that much to make a man mad, mean, mutilating,
It could do that much to make a man good, graceful, giving.
And I no longer wonder - my music did great things.
And I no longer question - my music worked miracles.
And I no longer doubt - my music healed relationships, forged relationships, created memories in Relationships.
And I know - music is life.
About the Creator
Max Baldauf
A college student with a passion for the outdoors and the environment - anyone reading this go do something to help it, we need it.
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