Incomplete

Have you ever thought of your life as a puzzle                                                                             

There are so many pieces that make a whole picture

but for me

None seem to fit.

I will sit there and try to force them

but they end up broken 

I can’t use them again

What am I to do at this point

I have to work with what I have

I try to

but there comes a time and I want to give up

But you force me to keep playing this game

as I get closer to the end

i realize I have a frame,

but only a frame

because the center is blank

missing

Hiding away to never be found again

Never to be used again

                Signed

                    Incomplete

This poem is about: 
Me

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