stuck here picking up the shattered pieces,
the shattered pieces of a broken life,
a life I want desperatly to live…
a life i love but have no idea what to do with.
sitting here putting the pieces back together,
they don’t always fit together,
there is always some pieces that just don’t fit in
just like me never fitting in.
why pick them up? why put them back together?
why try so desperatly to do something,
that will never ever happen…
that just never works out right, that’ll never work right.
why? beacuse… what else do I have but hope,
hope that maybe one day they will fit.
maybe one day the mosiac will be complete,
that maybe one day my life will be complete.