Pieces Of Life

While I was five

I told my Mamma

That I was incomplete,

Then she told me that

This is how everyone is

And you’ll find your

Missing pieces along the way

Until you turn sixty

And after sixty you’ll lose

A few of those pieces

You’ve found and

You’ll be very perfect after that.

.

Then I turned thirteen

I asked my Mamma

What if the pieces that

I have found wasn’t mine,

Then she told me that

This is how life is and

Well all find pieces

Which aren’t ours

Some of those pieces we return

To their owners, some just wither

Some break away, some stays put

Like dirt in the eye, hurting us.

But some pieces completes others

Even though they are with us.

Strange are the ways of life.

.

When I turned twenty

I told my Mamma

That I can feel the unrest inside

Of the pieces that aren’t mine.

I said, it moves around a lot

Occupy spaces which doesn’t belong to it.

Then she said, now you’re old enough

To understand pain, but you also know

To love enough, so that the love,

Can occupy the unoccupied space and

Never let the missing pieces and hurt complain.

.

Then I turned thirty-three,

I told my Mamma

That you don’t know anything

You said that I’ll lose pieces that aren’t mine

But along with them, I’ve lost some of mine too.

Then she told me that,

The pieces you’ve lost

Wasn’t needed for you,

For whatever you’ve lost

Will give you space,

For new ones to take

I know it will be hurtful for a while

But only those pieces

Which should be you

Can be yours, others will fade

Other all pieces will fade away.

.

Now I’m sixty

And I’m perfect

Just like she said

Perfect in the most imperfect way

Incandescently happy

With all the pieces I have met,

And all the pieces I have left

And the spaces are there

But they’re perfect for me

To store my love in.

And now I know that

My Mamma was right,

She was always right.

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