Cheater That I Was

Today's prompt was to write about something stolen but not to apologize.

Cheater That I Was

April 13, 2020

When I was six or seven

I stole my first poem,

ripped the page right out of a book,

copied it onto my notebook paper,

passed it off as my own.

Turned it in to my second grade teacher,

said, “Look, Ms. Bridges, look!”

Won a prize for that purloined poem,

cheater that I was.

“Good poets borrow; great poets steal,”

so the saying goes.

I’ve learned that the trick is to make it your own

so that nobody knows.