When The Poetry Thought Police Come Knocking Loudly On My Door Poem by Shaun Cronick

When the poetry thought police,
Come knocking loudly on my door.
To arrest me for poetry plagiarism,
For them I have a surprise in store...

I'll think I'm out!

Outside where...

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils.
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze...

Outside dreaming up my original poetry...

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That Flesh is air to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
Perchance to dream; aye, there's the rub...

How dare they accuse me of poetry plagiarism!
They wouldn't know a good stolen poem if it bit them on the ass!