Fucking plagiarists

You see
The words I weave
Have been woven before
Perhaps differently
With different threads and colors
Patterns and better looms
I do this by hand
But some weave by machine
Precise, perfect, boring
Sometimes My words are smooth and silky
Sometimes they are a rough homespun
But I weave them
And clothe myself in them
Wear them around town
But I'm kind I let other people try them on
Say
How do you feel in this
No?
Well try this
Yes I like the drape of this one on you
But then some one steals my work
Lets other people try it on
Without the satisfaction it gives me
To tell you the truth
I probably wouldn't fuck plagiarists
Unless it's a hatefuck