It’s all a cliché
They tell me
It’s all been done
It’s all been copyrighted
And stamped
Well where does that
Leave me?
Am I just another portrait
Of the same scene?
Can I not find
A new end of the earth?
Has each corner of space
Been mapped out?
Is this what school
Helps us figure out?
That we’re not going to be
Magellans or Twains
There’s nothing left
To discover and create
We’re here simply to learn
How to avoid past mistakes
A worthy task
But a lackluster one
I want the moon
I want the sun
But they quickly remind me
So does everyone else
So did
Everyone else
You’re too late.

Maybe
We’re not
Too late
Perhaps we’re on time
I claim the past
And the present
To be mine
To be yours
So many unopened doors
We are new
And copyright free
There’s different desires
And brand new pleas
The backrooms
Of our thoughts
Lay uncharted
It’s a first-time-never-been-ran-on-before race
That we’ve just started