(October 6,1950 / New Jersey)

What do you think this poem is about?

Missing Piece

Like the missing puzzle piece no longer fitting in the picture, am I.
Never fitting or belonging anywhere, always alone, a solitary figure, I roam this earth through darkest nights.
Finding at last a temporary hold through Hospice, where patients, like myself, are puzzle pieces no longer fitting in.
We are companions of a sort for a short while as we teeter on edges of death, and then let go.
So I guess if I were to belong somewhere on this earth, this is the place, until I at last let go to become a part of a universal heavenly picture puzzle for eternity.

Submitted: Thursday, March 07, 2013


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