Pieces, You Hold


Maybe, this world lies scattered
Uneven, edged irregular

Maybe, this world lies broken
Huddled in heaps, shaped to misfit

Maybe, you see these edges
In ridges of glass

Maybe, you want another

Look at these edges again
Holding your soft palms

Look at their brothers
and sisters
Yearning for the lost touch
Lost, from their homes

Look at this picture
Painted by a brush, of love

You hold these pieces
The jigsaw of this world

Fit, only those pieces
Which are around yours

In a magic, unknown
The shards of glass
Fit back, in their homes
To scatter this world
no more

image: http://www.zazzle.com


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