Poetry by an anonymous Motley Contributor
We opened the box of a time-worn jigsaw.
Hands stained with hope, you linked your hopeful pieces with mine.
Fumbling with the future, picturing paradise, interlocking curves and colors, We eagerly created the unknown.
Touched by the tangible, you groped for explanations when I broke our puzzle into pieces. Wrapped in bear pajamas, I slammed the box closed on your hands.
Unable to make sense of the mismatched muddle, I realize now it was not to be solved. The beauty was in the game.
Do you want to play again?
