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High Up in His Ivory Tower

 

High up in his ivory tower

Blake read books by the wise.

He lived by “Knowledge is power”;

An axiom for demise.

 

He overthrew and built anew

The science of his thought.

Although one can alter what is true

Can does not imply ought.

 

The more Blake learned and read his books

The less he could relate

To those who’s shallow resting hooks

Were cast without their bait.

 

Conversation could not be held

While Blake was in his head.

Talk washed over well-built welds

From blowtorch books he read.

 

As Blake prided his education

The judgments they did come.

And he developed a fixation

With others’ mental slums.

 

He thought of himself as far better

Because he’d learned so much.

Yet knowledge was his greatest debtor:

He used it as his crutch.

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