To see outside your sphere,
Ostensibly occluded from real life,
Only your own thoughts near?
Unable to process what others feel,
A lacunae 'tween you,
Sliding down a huge infundibulum,
Gelid and hard sides apparently smooth.
But there are handholds if you wish to search,
And not fall in despair,
Refracting the light from the world outside,
Also your source of air.
Quick, grab one now!
Before you suffocate,
Get squeezed out the tapered end like sausage,
And lose all chance at tempting your own fate.
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