Stolen Verses

In shadows deep, a poet hid, With pen in hand, his dreams forbid. He roamed the pages of another's heart, Stealing lines, playing his part. Though the ink flowed smoothly, the truth lay bare, In borrowed words, there’s no true flair. As shadows gathered, oblivious he, A quiet watcher saw through his spree. For art is forged in struggle’s might, Not taken lightly, nor grasped with fright. "Create your world, let your truth sing, For stolen dreams bring fear, not spring." The poet paused, faced his whim, To carve his way, let his voice brim. From shadows cast, let honesty bloom, No stolen light can fill the room.