Tired metaphors still leak from beneath coffee shop doors As I leave your bed this morning. What we've done has been done before And it's the horrid repition that appalls me most. Or perhaps cliche, because each soul hangs onto the belief That his or her story is unique; Each thinks they are breaking new ground, Each pictures himself as a cornerstone of human behavior, upon which others base themselves. But the reality is that the cornerstones were laid Long before humanity knew the word, And we are just bricks in an ongoing construction, Piling our experiences atop those who built before. And yet, we could be more than that. Is it hypocrisy to say we could reach the Heavens together, Is it fairytale to believe we could succeed Where the Babylonians failed in their egotistical attempt to reach the stars? I am willing to try, if you are. Let us be then, not as cornerstones, but as the bricks on the tower of Babel that never were. Let us touch the Heavens Let us disturb the world of angels Let us be as Gods, my dear, And make the world as we wish. Relying, no longer, on cornerstones.