the blind man
walks blindly
sees clearly
the space around him
filled with uncertainty
and blame
guilt and the fullness
of the lame
he bumps steadily
into the door jam
blinks his dry and
vision-less eye
in hopes to see
the meaning
in what we are
all thinking
he remains calm
and quiet in the
presence of the flame
he will see to it
that he doesn't play
our game
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