A poem which really captures the ominous state of our culture today (although it was inspired by events at the close of WW I) is Yeats' Second Coming:
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.
And, as I recall, the “day the music died” referred to the day the plane with Buddy Holley, et al. went down.