I’ve appropriated
As I stumble through, all those lines and verses
To make something new
I guess those authors never died
They just slithered back
With new ideas to monopolize
Like, you can’t have the feeling of creation
Because we own the feeling of creation
And now mythologies, run serpentine
And pick up the dirt and leaves of revelry
The future will never see, that these giants
Are just like all of us