Short Circut

What can be said,
that hasn't been said already?
What can be done,
that hasn't been tried already?

It's the same white page,
though a different seat each time.
It's the same old feeling,
escaping through a different rhyme.

It's like the earth's rotation-
spinning endlessly.
It's like generations of music-
remembered timelessly.

Hitting every roadblock,
I keep fighting through.
Trying to find some way,
to release my truth.