Good morning, girl, the world says back.
While the world wanders around, smugly,
I spend my days looking for what I lack.
A love life, that's complicated. Too much time.
A sex life? That's somewhere, long ago dead.
Some talent, I had it once, had a knack for rhyme,
But when I try to pen a poem, it gets stuck in my head.
Good evening, world, I say, defeated.
Good evening, girl, the world says back.
World, why do I feel so shamefully conceited?
Girl, why are you always looking for the things you lack?
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