Concert

So many songs sing of such sadness I
Sometimes don't know how to react to them.
It's not that I'm confused: I sit and sigh
When I am low, nor would I now condemn
Others for what I've done. But even so
There's something strange in hearing evermore
Of love now lost and hearts filled up with woe
Then shattered, letting forth their anguished store,
And in my own heart feeling this is true
This happens, what they say is not absurd,
Yet at the same time knowing as I do
Despite the honesty in every word
It's not for me, and foreign to my person:
Our love ever improves. It does not worsen.