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Origin

Origin

What can I write, that hasn't already been written about,
what can I possibly think that hasn't been thought about.
The origin of thought,
the beauty of creativity,
the moment I think of a new thought, a new idea, the rush,

But, what can I write, that hasn't already been written about,
what can I possibly think that hasn't been thought about.

I pride myself, oh here is an idea!
I shout, oh, eureka,
I run for a notepad, I make notes on the sand even,
I scribble in the wall if i don't find any,

But, what can I write, that hasn't already been written about,
what can I possibly think that hasn't been thought about.

I sit down to pour my thoughts,
I visualize how my words would look when i write them down,
somewhere I cry over the possibility of the lost beauty once its out,
my mind is racing, my mouth is salivating with newer thoughts,
with a happy face and hungry hands I start typing,
But, what can I write, that hasn't already been written about,
what can I possibly think that hasn't been thought about.

A glow in my thought,
a fantasy about appreciation,
a pat on back from the seventh grade English teacher,
a slap from the Math one,
Oh i saw it all, in a second and just like that, I travelled back to now

I sit with trembling hands, eager to pour out the next word,
but before it is out, there is another thought
no wonder I thought they say,
write and feel time

But, o what can I write, that hasn't already been written about,
what can I possibly think that hasn't been thought about.






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