1000 pieces...
That's the amount in my mind,
Feeling a bit blind,
Things I cannot find,
To feel one of a kind.

We were born,
Like little devils with a horn.
We know how it starts,
Opening a box full of parts.

Round and sharp pieces,
Not fitting together,
Not making any sense,
Just a distorted picture.

"Assemble the whole!"
Easy for them to say,
When they have an easy puzzle.
Easy for them to say,
When they can differentiate the shards.

Dark is all I can see,
No sight of colour,
No depiction of joy,
Just a black picture.

We will die,
Like everything was just a lie.
We know how it ends,
How the complete picture blends.

999 pieces...
That's the amount left to go,
What I need to undergo,
To cheer up my ego...
I think I will forgo!