The world knocks at my door.
I refuse to answer it.
The world hands me a book to read.
I refuse to read it.
The world tells me of its woes.
I refuse to listein.
The world tells me of its wonderus adventures.
I refuse to act intrested.
The world tells me how much it loves me.
I refuse to acknowledge what she is saying.
The world dies a slow and painful death.
I cry at the funeral, and regret refusing anything she had to offer.
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