Put the pen to the paper
See what’s on the docket.
Begin the story of losing her.
Once finished fill your pocket.
So long you have gone about,
No longer your own words,
But another product of another sellout.
Now from your pen redundancy pours.
Put the hand to the clay
Look at your unfilled orders.
Shape the maidens curvy way
Put the finess of your hand on her.
After so much practice
Your hands flow so carefully.
Your art not so careless.
Now nothing craftful is in your pottery.
You artist of the pencil
Your work studied for appreciation.
You artist of the wheel
Your work glanced for admiration.
Yet both of you have no talent.
You have high royalties paid for work
But what create I do resent
You always plagiarize work shall you shirk.