I avoid your glance.
Your stare.
Your mocking, cat-eyed glare.
I step back.
I turn around.
I walk from where you stand.

Envy.
Envy.
Envy is a death note.
Envy was a dead man's stare,
that now releases an empty void.

Think.
Speak.
Act.
Your somber voice is now an echo.
Your spiteful judgments are bogus.
As I leave you here to rot within your retired compost.

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