No one is original

Not any more

We go with the flow

Not against the grain

We follow the crowd

We don't beat our path

Even this poem

Though ironic

Is clichéd

Every artist searches

We all seek an answer

To a question that haunts

What is the one thing

That I alone

Have conceived?

The only poem

That only I could write?

The only feeling

That I alone have felt?

The lone idea

That has been thought only by me?