The Puzzle
A puzzle
Two pieces make up this puzzle
One white
The other black
Neither of the sides seem to fit
Even after turning them
They don't go together
But you keep twisting them
You get to know the pieces
You learn their strong points,
And their weak ones
You find they don't fit,
Yet seem perfect nonetheless
The white piece is gentle
The corners rounded
Obtuse angles make it flexible
Once almost a circle
After many years
And trials later
She is finely shaped
The black piece is cut rigidly
Every incision is sharp
Every angle is harsh
Produced broken
Displayed as a mishap
Underappreciated for what he really is
Then, another piece is added
A yellow piece flung into the mix
It seems that when you get it
The piece fits next to the white
But not with the black
The black is deemed deformed
And is immediately excluded
Exiled
This piece lost forever
In the intricate puzzle of life
Goodbye black piece
Forever you shall be alone
While the white and yellow fit snugly together
Goodbye…
Goodbye…
Goodbye…