Ode To Plagiarism
I penned a rhyme I thought sublime. Rejection slips came in no time.
My efforts were described as dank. One critic even said it stank.
I penned once more, said t'was mine own. I lied ( 'cuz it was just on loan).
But still they yelled, they called it crud, and threw me down into the mud,
besmirched my kin, maligned my brain.
My urge to write begin to wane, so expertise I had to feign.
I asked the Bard to help me out (He is the best, there is not doubt.)