In his little notebook/vase
the plagiarist did hold
a thousand different sparks
a million snowflakes
in the cold

These were the neurotransmitters
arcing in the brains
of several hundred poets
who's ideas he had drained.

Like fireflies they swirled
and he looked at them with hate.
He had no tiny lights to say were his
his mind not near so great.

And so he took the offerings
glowing like the stars
and crammed them in a website
he took that which was ours!

For one things for certain.
This is simply fact.
The light thief hasn't got two himself

to spark on impact!


Soul Survivor
September 2014