Theremin Gulag
Your eerie, musical sound,
speaking of the future --
and things before their time
You did everything
we're all told to do;
men with skills and talent,
always move ahead
But you loved the wrong woman
and saw too far ahead
and maybe didn't realize:
that just above average
is all they really want
And you became a slave,
toiling with your genius,
all the credit going
to one mediocre mind
after another
No doubt suffering at every word
from your hypocrite jailers
and wondering if maybe
you should've just hidden your gift