I picked up some pieces
Broken pieces
I put them in a bag
Figured i'd wait until later
To put them together
And i went along
About my business
But at a certain point,
I realized that
For every piece i picked up
Five more appeared
In another place
This brings me to the
Conclusion that
I'll never finish
I'll be done when i die
And i will have accomplished
Nothing i set out for
All of my hearts desires
Will rest in the ground
Without content
It took me this long to see that
My efforts were wasted
And yet i still feel the need
To pick up more broken pieces
And each time i see
Other pieces being formed
Uniting on their own
Without my help
I see pieces of my own
Falling from my body
With shattering descent
Looking behind, i see no one
Picking up what i've left
Do i have to pick up those too?
I feel like a mess
And when it's all said and done,
When i'm dead,
My bag will weigh forty tons
A full bag of broken