For bill evans
In the beginning of the poem, it seemed like the man had fallen in love with music, he caught his eye, and most importantly it caught his heart. He was addicted always wanting more, and never could have enough. Everyone admired him and was amazed by his talents, he could do wonders with a strike of a cord, and the music was like heaven to everyone sitting in the room. Not a grey day passed while the music was playing, unfortunately what he was playing wasnt music, he didn't have songs, the strokes and riples was his life passing him by everyday. He my friend was addicted to cocaine
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