So if life is a puzzle,
And I am its piece,
Then why do I only fit with you?
Not when others are around,
Mixing up the pieces,
But when we exist side by side,
Locking together,
And all fits,
And works together,
To form the whole image,
I exist now,
But I don't fit anymore,
I am a lost piece of the puzzle,
But now only a corner,
Which is not needed to see the beautiful picture that you have worked for,
When before it seemed,
Like I was the best fit,
And the key,
But it turns out I was forced,
And dulling the corners of the other pieces,
Till it was fixed,
But still I think,
What was wrong with my picture?
That I saw on my box,
That made me think I belonged there in the first place,

Part of the ground, mixed in among the roses.