Robbie Burns Is A Plagiarist Poem by Francie Lynch

I'm pissed off with Robert Frost
And the guy who wrote "Paradise Lost".
I ain't happy with Aristotle,
And especially John, the weird Apostle.
Don't mention, please, Shelley or Keats,
Blake, Byron or Wordsworth;
Each and every one you see,
(If you're ready for the truth) ,
Took their themes from me.
Don't look aghast,
Don't tsk and titter,
Their thievery's left me
Mean and bitter.
Just because they said it first,
Doesn't mean I find it just;
It doesn't give them ownership
Of my themes and authorship.
I write of Roads, Good and Evil,
God and Satan, love and leaving.
I know, I sound like I'm bleating,
But I won't stand for this beating.
Although they're merely dust and bones,
They don't have the right to own
All the great lines I have sown,
Like, "The best laid plans of mice and men..."
(I said that before Robbie Burns) .
Let me make this crystal clear;
If I was there, or he were here,
I'd sue the ass of Will Shakespeare.