All the little pieces ..... that make up what is me
never knowing what goes where, no picture do I see
What will be, the final piece, to make this maze complete
how long I sought to be all there .... the pieces all to meet

Each small piece, it has been placed in naked disarray
nothing more that I have left ... has not been on display
Looking for the long last fit, of that small odd shaped piece
where will it go? who will it be, this puzzle to complete

in this dimension I reside, I see few friendly face
most trod on by, not looking down, of me, is left no trace
But, all these pieces still exist, they have no place or rhyme
they may not meet to be complete, not soon, or any time

Can one replace all the leaves, once fallen from the tree
once in the wind they go their way, untethered and finally free
Sometimes that's how I really feel, all scattered o'er the ground
trampled and raked, no purpose no place, just waiting to be found

but found, it seems I'll never be, the picture not be seen
just waiting for a caring hand, these pieces turn to dreams
So I live my life in calm confusion, no ending do I see
out of phase and out of step .... of what I'm yet to be.

All The Little Pieces Contributed by UnknownLegend on Wednesday, 16th January 2008 @ 05:00:10 PM in AEST Topic: Lifepoems All the little pieces ..... that make up what is me never knowing what goes where, no picture do I see What will be, the final piece, to make this maze complete how long I sought to be all there .... the pieces all to meet Each small piece, it has been placed in naked disarray nothing more that I have left ... has not been on display Looking for the long last fit, of that small odd shaped piece where will it go? who will it be, this puzzle to complete in this dimension I reside, I see few friendly face most trod on by, not looking down, of me, is left no trace But, all these pieces still exist, they have no place or rhyme they may not meet to be complete, not soon, or any time Can one replace all the leaves, once fallen from the tree once in the wind they go their way, untethered and finally free Sometimes that's how I really feel, all scattered o'er the ground trampled and raked, no purpose no place, just waiting to be found but found, it seems I'll never be, the picture not be seen just waiting for a caring hand, these pieces turn to dreams So I live my life in calm confusion, no ending do I see out of phase and out of step .... of what I'm yet to be. Copyright © UnknownLegend ... [ 2008-01-16 17:00:10] (Date/Time posted on site) Advertisments: Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem