"P I E C E S"
By: Amethystdawn

A pencil sketches
Eyes I wish I could see
Another stroke
Nose I wish I could touch
A scratch, an etch
Lips I wish I could feel

A sigh. A loud rip.

P i e c e s flying in the air.

Not good.
Not perfect.
Not enough.

P i e c e s flying in the air.

A stroke of brilliance

Gathering, gathering
All of the p i e c e s
Matching, sticking

A moment of eternity

Done.

Behold the beauty
Born of the rejected…

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Amethystdawn: This is the first time I've actually done a free-verse poem without a rhyming scheme. Feel free to interpret this however you want, but let me just say this is based on my own experience of ripping my own creation apart, then sticking it back together. Constructive criticism is welcomed.

PS: QuickEdit is evil. It would not let me make the format of the poem the way I wanted it to be. :(