A tiny piece, as you see,
Fit the set boundaries.
What more does it possess.
Contemplating on this,
A fanciful thought roots beyond.
Well, it is just a piece; as you see,
Holding numerous sides or angles,
Within set boundaries.
Decides to set itself free,
What does it determine to be?
Leaving the thought for your decipher,
Now, later or whenever you desire.
Allow me to proceed,
A stroll; to the gist of the piece, perhaps.
Might lock your visions,
Not, in actuality, I suppose.
To the journey that trickles down,
Letting you explore as we uncover.
Go ahead with,
It is just a piece; as you see,
Connects with you subtly,
As we encounter our reality.
Melding entirely with the whole,
Tracing imprints from the enclosed.
A tiny piece, as you see,
Which is me.
Trying; to own its place in substance.
Yes, I am a piece.
You are a piece.
Pushing to fit jointly,
In the whatsoever.
Being a piece again,
Of existence yet to interpret.
Everything is just a piece.
Yes, we are nothing more than a puzzle pieces.
-bubblehead95
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Author:
bubblehead95 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 18th, 2022 22:36
- Comment from author about the poem: Who are you? The most simple, straight, and difficult three-word question one has encountered.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Rocky Lagou
Offline)
Comments1
Honestly though. We're all just pieces that complete the integrated whole of life. An honest and beautiful poem.
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I appreciate every comment of yours on my poems. Thank you for faving this one as well.
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