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Puzzle Pieces
Puzzle Pieces
Puzzle pieces in a box, each one is a key.
Put them all together, the picture there is me.
Each person holds a puzzle piece, some hold two or three.
But no one has enough of them to know the completed me.
The part that loves her family; the sand, the sea, the shore.
The part that loves so deeply, with passion behind closed doors.
The joys of making jelly that I'm not supposed to eat,
the sound of rain on tin roofs, or cool grass on my bare feet.
Then there's the pieces hidden, buried deep within the pile.
To fit the pieces (me) together will take you quite awhile.
There is no lid with photo, to help you solve this task.
I gave it once to someone, whose love for me now's past.
I hand out pieces carefully, little clues for you to know
But some of them are missing, one's not allowed to show
Deep emotions, passions, vunerabilities, many secret parts
The one's, if abused, would most surely kill my heart.
Its very hard to cross that line and expose the complete pic.
In times past, I've felt the hurt...and that's the jest of it.
So hold the pieces that you have, carefully in your hands
Then sometime, I'll pass out more, if I find I can.
This is a clever way to look at the complexities that make up the complete you. The subject to our poems may be the same but yours is a real gemn. Thanks for all your lovely comments.
Of the writing I have read so far of yours,this is the one that tells about your inner self.Your fears,tears and laughter Very good Kat,,Very Good
Great little piece here! I really like it and have a similar one myself but forgot the name. LOL Isn't it the truth that people don't know what we are inside and they live side by side with us.
Jessica