Familiar melodies are my auditory casualties.
This music, I dread, though, embraced;
Stolen, recycled, and squelched amenities,
Songs that you ruined with excessive haste.

I can’t stand my former favorite LPs,
Since you abandoned both them and me.
Target practice, the best usage for these CDs,
Before deleting every album and mp3.

Memories are the bane of my eardrums,
Despite the fruition of my love-life’s dismission.
Emotion has escaped my brain’s inner sanctums,
Yet, these traces of musical nostalgia raise suspicion.

There’s no sense in wasting precious time,
Over this crime you didn’t intentionally commit;
For I’m merely remembering that love is sublime,
And that my loss wasn’t you, my loss was it.