the rythm of a singer

Every morning it's the same thing. He gets up and hits his head on the bunk above his own and groans as he rubs the slowly-forming bump on his head. He stumbles to the coffee machine at the front of the bus. He tries to remember what had happened last night. Rubbing the newly formed bruse on his head, he pours himselfa freash cup of coffee. His black, greasy- wire like hair falls into his face as he takes a sip of coffee. He wonders what time his next show is and does he have enough pills to ease the heart ache from the roar of the crowd. And will the smell of booze ever wash away from his breath. He turns to the back of the bus and make his way down. He takes his pants and jacket from the floor. He applies his eyeliner and looks deep into his green,hazel eyes and doesn't like what he sees. He grabs his pills and takes two, knowing that he'll be wanting more. He takes his ciggarettes from the counter and makes his way to the door. Gerard grabs his coffee and opens the door of th tour bus to a bitter sweet world outside of his own.

I wrote this for my English class. I didn't get a very good mark for it. :( oh well :P