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He comes like a thief in the dark of night, hiding behind the yellow mask of deceit, in the dim light. He steals a phrase here and a word there, until he robs the essence of your written might. He changes names and date as he goes, hoping that he will fool the pros. He dances with glee, as he hides behind his pitiful pseudo. He's removed all the mirrors from his hole, for thereís no reflection, if thereís no soul. The light of truth will sift itís way through the the dark sands of deceit and bare his soulless being to the light, so cold. This thief of written thoughts becomes trapped in his own web of deceit. His lies of treachery will no long sing his praise. Some day he will lay exposed and totally dazed. His only chance of redemption, is to confess his moral sin, but this, he will not do. For you see, he will always be, a thief, liar, fake and plagiarist too.
Years ago, a friend sent me a copy of a poem that I had written, with another persons name as the Author. I was enraged! And immediately wrote this little poem.
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