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Poem


Puzzle pieces are made so that they interlock,
but sometimes one of us gets bent out of shape,
and no matter how hard I try to make you understand
you're like that misfit puzzle piece with eyes agape, 
acting like you're always right, but stubborn as a rock.
Our differences are like the pieces of a puzzle called life.

You and I can be like that, obstinate and headstrong,
not willing to give an inch, no matter who is wrong,
and it's the reason why we cause each other strife.
We're as diverse as a pitch black night is to daylight.
That's why our opposite opinions become an argument,
in which we use bitter words in a rage to vent.

I doubt we'll ever find the patience that we need
for one of us to give up the fight and finally concede.
If one of us it has to be, I'm sure it will have to be me
because long ago I learned not to do battle with the devil.
The way to make our pieces fit is to agree to disagree.
I'd rather enjoy life that way, before stooping to your level.

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