I hate the others, envy's primal reply,
Though the primal's only the first
reason why.
I hate that they're purposeful,
perfunctory,
Asking “how, when,” not “who,
why.” They should be
Leisurely, lingering. You deserve to
be explored
Or, by the simplest minds, at least
adored.
I abhor their words, their means and
their ways,
Hardly envy their moments for the want
of days.
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