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Twenty-eight pieces of glass

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She’s staring at me, who is she
She has my face but she’s not me
Twenty-eight pieces of glass show me one thing
One stands alone on the left wing
The one shows the real me
The person others can’t bear to see
In the one frame tears strain my face
In the others a girl whose full of grace
Questions race through my mind
Which face is fake, which is mine?
What am I, what have I done?
Who am I, who have I become?





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