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On the Nature of Faces

I am what I am
and nothing more
(yet nothing less) –

a faceless voice
praising a world
made out of faces –

always scorned
for things I can’t control,
alter or make undone

but never praised
for those things that I can –
not for a single righted wrong.

The faces of the world
never turn my way –
they do not heed my words.

But I praise myself to say
that I don’t turn from anyone
since I don’t have a face to turn away.

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