The inner world grows,
And I feel as if it is where I really exist.
I am here with only the things I allow in,
mainly abstract thoughts
and perhaps a few lifeless objects,
human or otherwise,
allowing me to be the only,
the best there is,
the king of this lonesome world.
This world’s concerns
do not include my food,
my bonds of friendship,
my sleeping, my waking,
my health, my place, or my time.
Where is this world,
and why do I wish to live in it?
It is not a real place.