Of the many girls i thought loved me
she stands out boldly.

She knew how to weave
herself into elusive

raise the bar
just when i thought i reached her

quietly recede
when i picked up speed

use my gift
to give me a lift

remind what was hers
was in my purse

convey
her generosity was a day away.

As i recall
she took my all
and left me a wreck.

She was my Miss Take.

Every child is born
With a puzzle to do
Some smaller than others
But same in point of view

As you live your life
You search for every piece
You find them in the people you meet
Or in places you find peace

Sometimes your pieces
Don't fit like they should
So you take them out
And find a place they could

Some people are so desperate
To find the right part
That they'll force them in places
That ruins the art

When a piece doesn't fit
Then you set it aside
It will be important later
It will have to be applied

But those people that are desperate
May take those away
They'll find a place that it fits
Along with the price to pay

Puzzles are made
With similar design
So they can get away
With taking what was mine

Too many people
Took what were important to me
So my puzzle is left unfinished
And I can't see what it would be

I can't finish my puzzle
And show my work of art
I can't get a new puzzle
And go back to the start

Selfish people have ruined
The only thing I had
I can't find my pieces
I have nothing more to add

So I throw away my puzzle
Since there is nothing more to do
I walk through the door
This is all because of you

Do you feel joy when joy has left the world?
Do you know all the mysteries of life
That fate bestows upon our flimsy heart?
The noise of crowded streets and busy days,
The wails of suffering, the cries of pain;
The sighs of love abandoned and of death,
The tears that fall when innocence is lost—
The endless joys of youth and of old age,
The laughter children laugh from day to day;
The day of birth, the night to pass away—
These songs that every day we sing again
Are those that that sing of pure humanity.

For what is joy without a mournful day,
And what is life without a time for death?
And what is peace, and purity and hope
Without the perils of despair and woe?

Now turn your heart to transcendental gleam,
And close your eyes to live that endless dream.

Our life is like, an empty book
Each year, we print a page
The story, of our life we write  
With each year, that we age

Some books are short, others long
All based on what we’ve done
Every journey made, and challenge faced
Each ordeal, we’ve lost or won

The good we do, or love we share
Is set in bright, bold print
Each wrong we’ve done, or didn’t care
Is veiled, in light, grey tint

Then when complete, each page is bound  
With a cover, that won’t bend                              
The front engraved, with our NAME                      
The back inscribed, THE END
OR
Then when complete, each page is bound
With a cover and its twinning
The front engraved, with our NAME
The back inscribed, BEGINNING
WIZDUMBs BY JA 338                  30-04-2014