My Gift

May 24, 2011
By zzhuzar BRONZE, Mount Prospect, Illinois
zzhuzar BRONZE, Mount Prospect, Illinois
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I hate my gifted ability.
My amazing hands
Do amazing work.
They just keep going

And going

And going…
Ugh. I can’t sleep.
I can barely eat.

I make Michelangelo’s Status Of David
Look like a kindergartner slopped clay together.
I make Leonardo Da Vinci’s painting of the Mona Lisa
Look like finger paintings by preschool a kid.
I make Van Gogh’s starry starry night painting
Look like someone threw up on a piece of paper
After drinking blue Gatorade.

It’s a curse
People need a nurse
After they see my paintings
Sculptures, drawings.
It’s a curse.
I can’t eat my hands are always busy.
Creating a new master piece (not the BBQ sauce.)
Of wonder and color and pure creativity that will
Put anyone’s art to shame.

Talking about BBQ sauce, and Gatorade. You can tell.
I’m hungry.
Curse my gift
Curse my hands
Curse my ability
Curse the creativity.

The author's comments:
Its a lying poem. I can't really draw or do anything artsy.

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