Bits and pieces of my life on scraps of this and that. Parts that somehow someday will become whole.

My life is made up of bits and pieces, 
Scraps of this and that which is my soul
You are the glue that binds it all together
You will somehow someday make it whole

These parts and pieces, discarded thoughts
Like flotsam and jetsam floating in my head
All the things that ever was or ever will be me
Are held together just for you until I'm dead

You are the one who gives me hope and love
The one who gives me bravery to write
Away all the hurt and hate I feel sometimes
About all the petty meaness caused by spite 

I write on used paper made for other things
Like envelopes, or anything I can find
To jot down the ideas that come so fast
I have to write them down, or lose my mind

I write stories from the shards of things
That linger with me, waiting to be told
The facts and fiction, the possibilities
Of characters and stories trying to unfold

This is my life as a writer, this is how it is
This is how it works, all the little things
That give me the words for plot lines
And everything that gives my talent wings



The End

3 comments about this poem Feed