I organized these words. I even had

I organized these words. I even had
these thoughts all by myself. I expressed
whatever it was I felt in a series of
geometries and measures. It was like

a painting or a sculpture. I once thought
that there was something different. I had
an idea that no one else had. I wrote
this sequence of alphabetic characters

and shared it through a medium. I even
followed the prevailing style. Yet, now
I deplore originality. There isn't

anything new under the Sun, there isn't
a story not being told. I disorganized
the meaning moving in these words.