Nothing of Myself

I don’t know what the fuss is all about.
I plagiarize.
Isn’t this what you are supposed to do, copy?

The words I use are not mine; they are, in fact, borrowed.
Creativity, as you call it, as per your terms.
I observe as I copy.
“Why can’t you be like them?”

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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Reading is descriptive,
the mold that spreads,
it takes over, fitting—
corruption, imagination blends.

Pick the ones you like.
You’ll see, I’ll reflect bright,
worthy of praise—
a mere copy, a hack.

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I did as you told.
See the ones moving; I executed just like them.

But they despise me.
They call me a dupe...a mimic....
At least have some ring to it.... no....an ape.

They say I have nothing of myself.

What should I tell them?
Have I made this obvious?

28.2.26
Prompt: Plagiarism

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