Do Not Pull On This String

Way back when the planets were younger than you, And even the stars were just lit, There was a great planet all made up of string, Acres and acres of it. This planet was lived on by only one man, One man who was easily counted, This easily counted one man was called Stan, Named after himself, if you doubt it. And life was just fine on this planet of twine, This stupendous stringular sphere, Stan busied his hands, all day tending the strands, And holding each equally dear. One string that he found stuck out loose from the ground, A waggley, wiggley thing, Beside it a sign, there by chance or design, It read, 'DO NOT PULL ON THIS STRING'. So he didn't, or anyway, not for a while, But after a time he grew bored, He looked at that string and he started to smile, He pulled and he tugged on the cord. At first it all seemed just like nothing had happened, But quickly he saw with a start, Around him the string had begun to unravel, He watched as his world fell apart.