Faces

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So many that we see

And so many more that stare in disbelief

As those faces from beyond continue to see

I am left

Wondering

I don't know why

But I hate to hear goodbyes

And the faces that lie

Always at some point

Die

And yet here I stand

Writing

Tapping

Have I become a better man?

In face of all these questions

And it is my intuition that I reckon

Am I more

To what I was before?

Or has my time come,

And is this

The final door?

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