Everything That Rhymes Exists

I had nothing more to say.
The child raised her eyebrows and
Stepped away. Skeptics are born
Not made. Look more carefully
At the crease between borrowed
And be. Nothing's descended
From nothing. Everything else

Is a riff, half off the shelf,
Half with a twist, on what was,
And what was was what now is
And won't be other than what
Was by the time you decide
The difference between this riff
You were reading and what is.