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I am the victim of a situation
I know the concept of collective guilt
which echoes round the nation
Inside the house that Jack built.
I emphasize the slow disgrace
when sadness guards the golden gate
without a broken twig or other trace
to love or any other fate.
In sound and furious distance
the self disturbs, upsets, unless
the fearful moments of his existence
subside to feeble consciousness.
