I am unique, just kept in perspective.
The things I do have been done before.
I've made things from a hundred years ago.
My entire life is the sum of an imperfect rhyme,
perfectly placed off to the side.
This very line has been written before,
read before, sung before,
far before even my first breath was born.
I am nothing but another image in a hall of mirrors.
Far be it for me to claim ungodly uniqueness,
I'm merely trying to see with the clearest senses.
Judge me by my pretenses.
Force me to grow.
Starve me of water.
Shorten Life's sentence.
I will cross a line,
just kept in perspective.
There is nothing I am that another is not.
But no one alive has the combination I've unlocked.