Poetry from my Soul

Puzzle Pieces

I'm a poorly done puzzle:

too many pieces here,

missing pieces there.

Too much of this,

too little of that.

And they can only see

the "fixed" puzzle.

"There's nothing wrong,"

they say to me.

"Nothing's missing, can't you see?

There's just enough."

So I'll rip it apart

shove it to the floor

throw some pieces away

and grab some new ones.

I'll be a well-done puzzle

by the time I'm done.