Copy Cops Poem by Francie Lynch

Versifying
Isn't dying,
But man,
It's getting
Hard to do.
Words and lines
Sound like cliches,
What once
Was old
Is new.

Familiar phrases
Crowd the pages,
Causing such "to do."
Can anyone write
Anything new.
Did I write that;
Overhear a wit?
Read it in the loo?
I'll note it down,
Sit,
Sweat and swap,
Get off the pot
And write it.

I don't purloin
"Pretty Woman"
Because Roy
Is older than me.
To write "Yesterday"
Is almost to say,
I've hijacked
Sir McCartney.
Write "Daffodils, "
And see what thrills
That word will bring you.

We may overuse them;
Unwittingly
Abuse them;
Try to amuse with them;
But they're ours,
Put to good use
For me.

The number of chords
Limits the hordes;
Repetition ensues,
The decry is sung:
"I've heard that song before."

The great ones of writing
Are cause for citing,
By we and me and you.

Can't contrast "love to roses, "
Shakespeare's told us;
Can't compare "eyes to stars, "
"Lips to petals, "
To say,
Your "soft, white skin"
Is an ink-black sin.
"Beautiful" should not
Be used as such:
If one should need it,
Get a thesaurus.
"Thee, " "Thine, " and "Shall"
Have taken their toll;
Like Death,
"Be not proud."

Be the chosen one,
You know how.

Words and phrases
Are replete;
Too well known
Not to repeat.
They're in
Our vernacular
To be used by
Any author.

But verbatim copying
Is outlawed.
The copy cops
Finger-print
The frauds.