I got on stage and the crowds screams flooded the Apolo like chickens screeching in the barn at the sight of a predator
I took my seat in front of the piano and the screaming went down like someone remotely turned it down
It's art they heard and not my cry for help
Arthritis pulled my muscles as my hands hit the note like a sack of salt
"Wow!" they said "how you hit those notes is pure artistry!"
"Thank you"I nodded
They missed the conflict I thought
I hated the love of my life because playing her pained me
Every note I sang sprang back to my ears in echoe,the anguish the harmonizing carried
Was deafening and demonizing to my ears
" Oh my gosh, your voice! "they praised me
They missed my confession, I thought
I sold over a million copies and i still wasn't heard
