In the street where I live,
sits a blind man who sings,
a song that I believe.
he sings, from birth he could not see,
...
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I see a happy street, I see little babys sleeping in their crib, the rich feasting on lobster and shrimp. but the blind one sings of all I cannot see, all that pass him by when he sings. nice lines potent and touching well done sat
The setting and the rhyming in particular were impressing, the core idea of the poem though seems a bit mixed up. great job.