He sang from his angst
He strummed out the pain
Infamous quite riots go back
To the tortured soul that was Cobain

He stripped down his music
So it was simplistically raw
He knew his style and how to use it
Until Cobain, music was devoid of artistic flaw

He symbolized our generation
He opened our eyes to expression
He spoke of empathy's devastation
And he screamed it without repression

He truly is an artistic martyr
Who transformed pain into art
The emptiness doesn't get any smaller
When he left, he took our hearts

I owe him my integrity and gratitude
Of which he instilled with each verse
If only I could've said Thank You
Now its too late and it just hurts

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