People tell me I'm a problem solver. I'm an advice giver. I'm an answer finder, But I can't find the answer, or even the right questions to ask, When it comes to figuring out my own mind. I fix things - on a daily basis - but I can't seem to fix myself. Perhaps someday I will find a missing piece, Maybe I was incomplete all along, Or some pieces got twisted, forced together the wrong way round, And I just need to untwist them, And the puzzle will be solved. Maybe one day I'll look exactly like the picture on the box. Until then I will be what I have always been: Puzzled.