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As he grins from ear to ear, you can't help but notice his eyes. His soft blue eyes that hold a history of abuse: pain and suffering. His irises cuddle his voluptuous pupils gently. Pupils swollen like two pennies conceal the continuous lie of 'no, I'm not high.' Above two long eyebrows lay softly across his head. A long, thin, pointy nose stays fixed in the centre of his face. Beneath that is his mouth. Soft lips stretched across his face bury secrets beneath lies, craft words with only thoughts and nurtures every rhyme to grow into a song. Two large smile marks caress his cheeks keeping them in tact. A top his head lays shiny, gold silk which glistens in the light. Peroxide had granted him beautiful locks of blonde hair. Though it may be short, it doesn't make it any less pretty. Two silver hoops cling onto his ears like koalas on a tree. Despite his cute, lovable face, the rest of his body is suffused in blood like it was 3am. A white, oversized shirt is ruined by the blood of his many victims. Behind his back he hides something in his right hand. He uses his left hand to wave to tarnish his public persona: Slim Shady - the pistol packing drug addict who bags on his momma. He waves to show his playful side. His wave accompanied with that smile and room makes it impossible to to hide his cuteness - no matter how much blood stains his shirt. From 1997 to 2016, Marshall has created a new outlook on hip-hop. Being in a class by himself and showing a caustic sense of humour, great ideas and an unhealthy dose of morbid self-hatred, he has became the God of Rap and my role model. From Infinite to the Marshall Mathers LP 2, Marshall has grown up to be a mature, pragmatic, caring man. Now that he's 44, he will be retiring soon which is a sad thought but he'll retire leaving a great legacy. Marshall Mathers: a true hero.
