Often,
I feel like that lone puzzle piece
that doesn’t really fit
into any other puzzles
And yet, hope of finding its true place
is the enigma of its existence –
It’s worn enough around the edges
that it can pretend to fit for a while
in mildly disjointed puzzles;
Until it pops loose,
and is exposed as abnormality…
Cast aside
until it almost fits into a different puzzle.
And so such cycles continue until
it’s cut to fit
and lacquered,
pressed into place –
Uncouth edges
suddenly glossy and smooth
which only really emphasize
its uncertain position…
How unique it was
When set carefully apart.
Kayfucius 