Originality

Little in the world is original,
For somewhere somehow someone has already
Said or done what you propose
With brightly beaming eyes.
The new idea is--at best,
More or less--regurgitation,
And countless generations have wasted
Countless hours chasing tails
To rediscover what is right,
And what is wrong.
            Endless the cycle:
Into the mines of history we go
To harvest the lumps
To fire the furnace
To power the gears
To grind the grains
Already ground to grit and gravy.
The treadmilling mills of our industry
Must forever whir in persistent place
Because authentic original thought
Is rarer than a pasha's jewel.