Poem-Plagiarist

I am not

An old school plagiarist

Stealing all that I write

From this life

Obvious to those

Cursed with sight

Funny how I still

Know nothing despite

 

The writings on the wall

And the many scribbles

In the stalls

Bumping into other thieves

Busy at their theft

Rolling up their sleeves

All of us trying to take a bow

For something we were presented

 

Already nicely laid out

But still we crave credit somehow

We are the camera

Taking the pictures for all

Placing them on flyers

Trying to hand to strangers passing by

The situation feels so dire

 

Ignored by most

A slight amusement for others

Even then watching them

Crumble it up and

Discard into the waste

Makes the camera

Set itself to burst

Snapping frame by frame

With ever increasing haste

 

Thanks for reading.

I have been off for a while but am glad to be back.

Swan

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7 responses to “Poem-Plagiarist

  1. Really enjoyed the first stanza brother…sweet carry into the piece. Lovely to see you and thanks for your visit and words, always appreciate you and send love! ~ Rose

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