The MIssing Piece

To thine own self must I be true,

True to thoughts, true to dreams, true to fears, true to heart.

Though fearful am I, to take that step into uncharted waters, with no life raft or flotations,

Yet that step I still take, clinging to hope.

Hope, that the missing puzzle piece to my ever-complex soul,

Is out there waiting with a life raft and blanket to warm and hold me,

Hope, that he will know what to say, what to do, and has a paddle.

For to wander the open sea,

Alone and cold is no way to spend a lifetime,

knowing that your puzzle piece is out there waiting,

Just waiting, for you to take that first step.

For hoping and dreaming are wonderful things in theory,

But to hope and dream in solitary confinement,

It is a mistake because it's only half of a hope, half of a dream,

Dreaming, hoping, thinking, fearing, loving

Endlessly wondering if you can stay at sea searching,

Yet I cling to that half-hope, half-dream,

Knowing that I will find that other half hope, half dream,

And that there will come an end to an empty sea,

And a beginning to a complete hope,

A complete Dream

A complete Puzzle.