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Ethan Andrew 2004 (Salt Lake City)

Life is like that of a difficult puzzle.

Always giving you stress and doubt.

You think you can see the finished product.

But the truth is that it is far larger than you thought.

Every piece you pick up is different than the last.

Their textures gritty or smooth.

The scent of each piece being random for each one you pick up.

Being silent for each one.

Each piece you set down, only looks how it sounds.

An image of the ocean shore begins to come into view.

But you can’t see the finished product.

But sometimes it’s like you can see it from far away.

But even then, it's hard to see the blend line.

We think that we know what will happen tomorrow. What piece we will place down.

No one knows what tomorrow will bring.

The endless waves of life keep crashing down upon the pieces.

Messing up our pictures.

Although we put the incorrect pieces into place, and crash right through the cracked walls.

Ethan had trouble trying to put the connect the correct pieces.

We will never know what tomorrow's pieces will be like.

What the pieces will be shaped like.

What new colors will be on them.

The small pieces swirling around in the waves.

We will never remember what every little piece of our lives will look like.

Once the last piece has fallen into place.

We can finally step back.

And look at the final picture that was once our lives.
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Submitted on April 08, 2021

1:15 min read
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    Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:


    "Puzzles" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 15 Apr. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/97287/puzzles>.

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