Life’s a puzzle, and people carry the pieces.
The first piece is laid down when our parents give us our name.
The people who taught us how to walk, talk, live, and just be,
hold and lay down the pieces that line the borders of our puzzle.
They help us define who we are, and from there,
we look for the missing pieces.
People carry the pieces,
and as we come to know them, the pieces fall into place,
and the picture becomes a little clearer.
Sometimes, when these people leave,
they take the piece they brought in with them.
A piece of our lives is as gone as they are.
People can be kind enough to leave their piece behind, but most take it with them,
and we begin to wonder if the puzzle will ever be complete.
Sometimes, the pieces don’t fit at all.
People hold out their pieces, but those pieces aren’t for our puzzle,
and no matter where we put it, no matter how many times we turn it,
it doesn’t quite fit.
It doesn’t mean we can’t keep it.
Sometimes, we have too many pieces at hand.
We don’t know if they fit or not, or where they should go at all.
People come along and they have no pieces to offer, but they do have time,
so they help us figure out which pieces go where.
The picture is becoming a little clearer,
but when we look at the puzzle,
there are missing and misplaced pieces, mismatched ones too,
and it looks strange.
Life is strange, though, isn’t it?