They **** you up those scribes of old.
Who pilfered hard, then pilfered more,
Until there were no thoughts untold
And everything was “heard before”

They rhymed in “epic tales of man”
Until there were no rhymes unsaid
They raped the natural metaphor
Until the metaphor was dead.

Man hands on old ideas to man
It’s hard to think of one yourself.
So shred your structure and your plan
And pick one off the shelf.

David Rudd Mitchell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/carry-on-larkin-g/