Plagiarism

If I take your jewelry, your car or your house and make them my own,

or your manservant or maidservant, ox or ass without your permission,

I know I have committed a great sin.

But if I write a letter to tell you that I made my decision in a place where

two paths diverged in a yellow wood,

have I still done something wrong?

How about if those paths

diverged in the valley of the shadow of death?

Would you hold it against me?

What if I admitted that partial grounds for my decision

were ground down to a single grain of sand in which

I saw eternity?

If in that eternity I learned

that beauty is indeed truth,

would I be a thief to tell you that?

If I held that beautiful truth

to be self evident,

would all theft be created equal?

Or are there ways to

to shake the chains to earth like dew?

Where I own these words and so do you?

Maybe I can tell a story

in a flowery tale more sweet than rhyme

with these things we share?

Maybe you can

dedicate, consecrate and hallow the ground

which was profane without these phrases.

I know that some will consider this licentiousness

but as for me,

give me liberty or give me death.