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There will always be someone who wants what you have, for its easier to steal from someone who has already performed the work, whether a material object, idea, or talent, etc.. Someone who takes credit, where it isn't due, for what you have accomplished, worked hard to attain, or saved for a special purchase. Hence, the PLAGIARIST!

The counterfeiters, whether it be money, or the reproduction of the "Old Masters" oil paintings, claiming it was purchased at a garage sale, or found in an old trunk in the attic of an old house they purchased. Many scenarios, many such events, and mostly untrue. Plain, and simple, they are nothing but "THIEVES." They have been around for thousands of years. Aggravating, yes! Frustrating, absolutely! Discouraging, you bet! The difficult part is knowing"they don't care!", as long as they get what you have, or think they can.

To my friends at HP: Regardless of whatever name they wish to use at the bottom of your piece, your signature is still inside the piece itself. Whether it be a particular phrase or word meticulously placed, the style of your writings, the way you approach your thought, the rhythmic flow of your prose, the softness or harshness of expression. All which has created "your signature". That, cannot be reproduced.

To those literary "thieves: You will continue to try and steal our work. But, for each letter stolen, for each word stolen, only creates another rung on your ladder, leading you deeper and deeper,further down into your abyss of loneliness, until the blanket of your depression, discontent, and hatred suffocates you. That is when your name will become known only as, "WHO?"

copyright: Richard Riddle September 08, 2014 10:00am(CDT)
 Sep 2014 poetrygod
holyoak
i'm the bone that you broke 
that never quite healed 
the same way again
familiar
yet slightly out of place
then you asked for a storm 
to break you in a familiar way
so i gave you silence 
and it was more 
than you could ever take
i write so much about grasping
at things i can't hold onto
like your hand 
since it's been slightly out of place
and now i'm not sure 
if i've been talking about you
or myself
they told me that the ink on the page
would replace you eventually
but i think i'm writing in your blood
and once the poetry 
is out of my system 
my veins will dry up 
and i'll look just like you

[holyoak]
 Sep 2014 poetrygod
Tyler Durden
You say you love me
I wonder what will make you change your mind,
This time.
 Sep 2014 poetrygod
Curtis
Poetic
 Sep 2014 poetrygod
Curtis
Nothing means more
Than my poetry
A bridge of no distance
To my inner energy
 Sep 2014 poetrygod
Curtis
Hmm
 Sep 2014 poetrygod
Curtis
Hmm
Adjustment to time
Is nonexistant
To the life of a rhyme
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