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Swift, teach us that a modest child will leisurely be milled Eschewed from aid, withdrawn from conscious need A child’s mind an empty bucket, waiting to be filled And to earth’s throne, invalids will accede.

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Written by

samantha-dias

American

Published: Dec 5, 2011
LinesWords: 435

Notes: This is a blackout poem, made with words from a Watchtower Magazine pamphlet.

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