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People have begged for my talent.

People have called me maestro.

People have called me a God among men.

But people to often to forget I am just a person too.

They think they know me from my keystrokes and honed sense of rhythm. My artistic voice and passionate verses. Little do they know what I did last night. How could they realize that I’ve had three divorces and an alcohol problem?

The grandeur of my hunting melodic tones encapsulates them. My composition will haunt them for days. Little do they know what I did last night. How could they realize they praise a monster with an addiction to pills?

I leave them hanging with my final cadence. A wave of my hand and a kiss to the crowd. Little do they realize what I plan to do tonight. How could they foresee that this would be my swan song and farewell to the world?

But more importantly, do they care? Did they ever truly love me, or only my music? Did any hear my heart and soul layed bare before them that night asking for help? Or did they just want to see the monkey dance?

Would it have even matted if they did realize, that I am just a person too?

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