Through the days of our lives,
The puzzle pieces fit together,
Not affected by pleasure or pain,
Not affected by the weather,
Each piece completes the picture,
Yet each day the puzzle changes,
For each day as pieces are added,
The whole picture rearranges.
If a piece is lost somehow,
Can that piece be recreated,
Yet even as the questions posed,
The answers been debated,
Restoring something with a replacement piece,
Leaves the picture not the same,
And as emotions pushed away,
It just leaves a picture less frame.
One piece for me is essential,
That one piece is my key,
A replacement isn’t the answer,
Only the original works for me,
For a time the puzzle was complete,
But without you I am not whole,
One woman is my missing piece,
And my incomplete picture, is my soul.