Lone Creator

Only the creator can feel the
Joy of creation, only his tired
Hands feel the relief of rest.
Others are spectators, those
Who smile and walk away, few
Stand by to encourage, to make
The day. The world I created will
Soon perish, lost in each ones eye,
While I stand alone and watch my
My creation die.

Loneliness darkens the sky above me,
My uniqueness, my gift, me reason cause
Of loneliness; embraces me, trying to
heal my wounds. I sigh and walkaway
gathering what I can; keeps for posterity!
The agony of the end is too much, for, a
crowd that surrounded me vanishes,
leaving me out of touch!!