I have this magnificent puzzle hanging on my wall that I made years ago.

I can’t remember exactly but I think it’s 797 pieces

Yes that’s right

797

Because there’s pieces missing.

All sky pieces, one sky piece toward the top and over to the left and two over to the right.

They stick out like sore thumbs and everyone comments on them. Like I hadn’t seen it before.

“Do you know you’re missing a few pieces of your puzzle there?” they ask.

Some even look at the floor to see if somehow they had miracoulsly wormed their way out from between the glass and card backing and fell to the ground. Because obviously it must have happened since last time I vacuumed.

So I just shrug and tell them that I know. And I tell them that they’ve always been missing, even when I framed it, they weren’t there.

This at least stops them looking at the floor.

Quite often they’ll tell me that I should have taken it back and got my money back or got a different puzzle. One with 800 pieces instead of 797.

But I tell them no. I like my 797 piece puzzle.

I like it because it reminds me of life.

Just because life is missing a piece or two you don’t put it back in the box and return it for a refund or a different one or throw it away.

Just because you put a lot of work into life and find out that there’s pieces missing you don’t just scrap it.

You should adapt to life with missing pieces.

You should be making the best of it and be proud of its uniqueness.

It especially reminds me of my life

My life is incomplete, my life is missing a few things, but the views pretty good.

And every now and then you’ll catch me looking around for those missing pieces, it’s a habit I guess.

I wonder if she'd changed her mind
just who it is you'd be?
Would you be gentle like your mother,
or would you look like me.
Would you have grown into a fine young man?
Would your eyes be brown or green?
I sometimes wonder how you would have looked,
this year you would have been prom queen.
I wish that she had told me,
that she'd decided not to go.
Then I wouldn't mourn the child,
the world never got to know.

I am no longer who I was
because now I’m someone new
I let the me that used to be
get altered just for you

I guess one of me is to blame
for letting all things change
for accepting the me that you could see
once things got rearranged

I liked the old me quite a lot
and at one time so did you
and yet you kept on changing him
was it just something to do?

The new me doesn’t understand
why the old me would do that
In fact the new me’s thinking
that I want the old me back

And now it seems the me I am
is no more the me for you
so let’s see just how hard it is
if what’s been done we can undo

Try as I might I can’t deny
the way you make me feel
As much as I try and fight it
this feeling is all too real

And though our lips have never touched
and most likely never will
You have stirred in me a yearning
for which there’s no cure or pill

There must be lesson here somewhere
or is it all some cruel joke
Two kindred spirits kept apart
in the dark of fading hope

But perhaps the lesson is patience
then again perhaps its not
But if the lesson is disappointment
that’s a badge I’ve already got

I wanted to write a poem about peace
but I was too angry
I wanted to write a poem about love
but my passion was elsewhere
I wanted to write a poem about freedom
but there was nothing to stop me
Just as there is nothing to stop you
But you wont
You would rather write about hate
About how people shouldn't be allowed to say that because its not nice and its not respectful and it offends you
But you don't say "they"
because you don't know who they are
You don't say their names
because you can't be bothered to find out
You identify them by their religion
because of the clothes they wear
You identify them by their race
because of the colour of their skin
You took a handful of people and used them to taint almost a quarter of the worlds population.
Congratulations.
And now your words are circling the globe, spreading hate and intolerance while at the same time spreading their message, and so it begins.
The spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with some young Arab kid kicked to death on the streets of London "cos he looks like a Muslim". The same spiral of hatred and terror and fear and mistrust that ends with a young Muslim walking into a market in Baghdad and killing hundreds as he martyrs himself to defend his home against the invading infidels.
And the only thing that's changed is the body count
The only thing that's changed is the number of mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and sons and daughters who will have one more reason to cry on this day and mourn their dead while others protest the loss of theirs.
And so it goes on.

If only it had been my words that had circled the earth first and not yours, we may have learned something actually worth learning.

If you really want to stop the killing and the dying and the mourning and the protests that offend you so much, copy and paste THIS and show the world there are still those that can think for themselves, that there is still hope.

I used to hear your name
whispered on a summer breeze
now its written on each snowflake
with the coming winter freeze

Where once was warmth and comfort
a chill is now descending
the song we sang together
has gone off key and now is ending

But seasons they march on
and one day it will be spring
Given time I'll find my voice
and again I'll start to sing.

I wake up early, watch you sleep,
an angel wrapped in dreams so deep.
No worries rest upon your face,
your body draped in silk and lace.

And as I wonder the vision you are,
you start to stretch and twists and stir.
With gentle smile and eyes now wide,
you slide your body to my side.

You pull me close and kiss my lips,
the passion felt betrayed by hips.
As lovers we do start to sway,
and so begins a perfect day.

Be strong for I am with you,
in everything you do.
When exhaustion you doth overtake,
I'm here to pull you through.

When insecurity abounds,
and you are filled with doubt.
Be strong for I am with you,
together we will out.

And when hard choices you must face,
not alone you make your stand.
For I am right beside you,
and your hand is in my hand

And late at night whilst in your bed,
you feel so safe from harm.
It is 'cause I am with you,
and you lay within my arms

Nothing less than everything,
is what i give to you.
Everything I am is yours,
and everything I do.