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60 My Happy Plight Look, look Look at me Poor me Here I am Here in The Wilderness This asylum Wherein blossoms Blindness visible to the blind Poor, poor me With my sight From all fight I stay Away Out of reach From the blind Rich And like a beam Craving that day My ears that treasure away Steal That loving prattling Of jays And even that loathed thundering Applause of the crackling canons at a battle Applauding the colourless blind Colour blinding The Rich with their colours Only to them visible Thought by the world Sightless For they live off a bottle… My eyes let them flow…! ...

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