Posted in Poetry

Jigsaw.

Broken into pieces and scattered everywhere, My jigsaw puzzle is damaged, unrecognizable, beyond repair.

I pick up the pieces and hold them in my hands but they no longer fit together. They’re unrecognizable beyond repair.

I try to fix the pieces but they crumble into dust, disappearing forever. My jigsaw puzzle is damaged, unrecognizable, beyond repair.

The pieces that remain I place before me, will an incomplete jigsaw be what I’ll forever be?

Butterfly

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Author:

Actor, singer, writer. Artistic Director/Owner of Purple Cast Productions. Loves theatre, films, reading and keeping fit. Member of The Writers Bureau and Slimming World.

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