I woke from a darkness to face a face I am not
The last of my memory is being shot
Who have I become with this face I got
Would this be the face I would have otherwise sought?
Is to be forgotten the face of who I am?
Does this face make me the other man?
Will those who love me need start again?
Or have I become a living sham?
Medical science has rendered this face a new life
Has all been cured by a sterile scalpel knife?
Or has the door been open to a life of mental strife?
When in the mirror the face I face, does not appear right.
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