The Gift

Awake!
I rise from my bed, through my dreams, my mind continues to tread,
What a strange picture that plays in my head.
The pain I had felt, was it real or was it not?
A deafening burn likened only to being shot.
From the blades of my shoulder, something was growing,
Of what, I am beyond in my knowing.
Alas, I reached for the pain, but all I found were white, powder feathers,
Was I going insane?
“Surely this can not be happening!” I exclaimed with a shout,
From out of a corner in my mind, came a man without a doubt,
He looked me in the eye,
His stare was ablaze, he barred my way,
I felt as if lost in a never ending maze,
“Help me.” is all I could choke, I fell to the cold, hard ground,
In death surely I would soak.
I peered upward, the man, well, his time worn hand was extended,
His palm was flat, his grasp, was intended.
I reached outward, my bony arm straightened, to get to his hand,
My shoulder was heavy laden.
The man, he changed, the bright gleam in his eye, gone
A shadow of what used to be had now been spawned,
This man I now feel, I must be his pawn.
His hand, he pulled back to his side,
No longer was help offered, I began to cry.
“You are different.” he exclaimed with a yell, “And for that you are punished,”
His voice was robotic, from what I could tell.
A gleaming shovel, in his hands, it was held, of its use,
I do not know all that well
But, then, it became apparent to me, this steel shovel was a parasite of misdeed.
The man began to dig and dig,
With each shovel full of earth he would not renege,
His mistake he was making, of one thing he was sure,
I belonged six feet below, unholy and impure
This man’s name was world, my creativity his sordid victim,
Why this happened, I am surely now stricken.
In the beginning he saw me as the same,
But when he realized I had a gift,
His mood, well, it changed.
Instead of showing me how to utilize my treasure,
He saw it as a curse, from which came no pleasure,
No prize to his purse.