Chatterbox: Pudding's Place

Mimic

A Message to a Certain Someone

There is somebody watching your every move

Then copying and releasing it, trying to prove

That they are you and you are they

That mimic that follows you round every day.

First goes your style, then goes your work

Soon, they’ve copied your every quirk

As they label it their theirs and say it’s not yours

You wish for the mimic to fight it’s own wars

As if that’s not enough, the mimic will follow

Bleeding your ideas dry and hollow

Bagging them down with inadequate skill

The mimic sinks your ships just for the thrill

This is a message to the mimic:

STOP.