Isn’t it annoying
When you can’t have a life
And what you do have is spent
Saying “You can’t do this rightâ€Â.
You don’t fit, don’t belong
Your just one extra piece
But it’s the wrong type of puzzle
It’s already complete.
And the lid has been sealed
It’s got tape on every side
So being stuck in the wrong box?
That’s one h**l of a ride.
You can’t break the tab
You can’t lift off the roof
You’re caught in the wrong family
But you’d crumble with two.
And there is a way to stop it
A painkiller to make you sane
But overdose on any drug
And you’ll never be the same.
So you’re back to square one
Thrown in where you began
Boxes packed, stacked and stored
By one un-forgiving hand.
You could be anywhere in this pile
And where you will land
Depends on how many finished puzzles
Lie above in the plan.
So it’s typical you see
To be thrown on the floor
To be buried under families
Who count freedom as norm.
Maybe one box miscounted
Maybe one never thought
Their puzzle isn’t complete
Their puzzle’s just one piece short
And their missing companion
Is hidden away
Under stack-loads of storage
No light in their day.
But again their too blind
To re-write the last scene
If they did they would find
Their missing puzzle piece, was me.
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