Pieces To The Pie

How do we define

Existence

If it’s

All we’ve

Ever

Known?

What is our life

But pieces

We have put together

Ourselves?

Are we 

The puzzled

Or

The puzzlemaker?

No matter which way

You slice

The pie,

Its contents

Are still the

Same.

Are we all the

Same

As pie,

Or do we

Live

More than

A

Lie?

Beneath all the layers,

There’s bound

To be some extra

Set of keys,

A spare.

What does it

Open,

And what are we really

Looking

To find?

What’s on our mind

Is surely

One of a

Kind.

We fit these

Pieces

To make us

A

Whole

PIe,

But nothing

Will belie

Quite like

The

Sigh,

We let out

In our cry.

Nothing to tear

Apart,

And no tears

To

Dry,

What are we,

But simply,

Pieces

To

The

Pie?

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