Sometimes, the picture gets broken. Our pieces fall out of place. They can be from different parts, all scattered around. Sometimes they are from one part and leave a big hole. They sit jumbled, pieces in their box. Some edges are blurry. Some are sharp. Each examined in turn, looking for answers. We sit in our places, sifting, longing to be whole.
Epilogue
When broken, trying to arrange our pieces, an Allison is what we need.
An Allison knows the answers are easy, there in the box. It's the questions that we seek.
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Our Puzzle[/font]
Sometimes, the picture of our life gets broken. Our pieces fall out of place and we can’t see how we fit together. Sometimes the pieces are from different parts, all scattered around. Sometimes they are from one part and leave a big hole. They sit jumbled in our thoughts; loves, losses, pains and triumphs, pieces of a puzzle in their box. Some have blurry edges, hard to see. Some are sharp, painful to hold. Turning them this way and that, we examine each, looking for the answer. We sit in our places, sifting, longing to be whole.
Epilogue
An Allison is what we need when we are broken, trying to arrange the pieces of ourselves. An Allison knows the answers are there in our box for us to see. The right question, an Allison knows, is what will set our pieces free.
Sometimes, the picture of our life gets broken.This metaphor would work better if you didn't tell the audience what it meant directly. You could leave out the pronouns to leave a bit of mystery to your piece.
our pieces fall out of place and we can’t see how we fit together. This is implied. Sometimes the pieces are from different parts, all scattered around. Sometimes they are from one part The repetition of sometimes is redundant. and leave a big hole. They sit jumbled in our thoughts; Metaphors involving the mind are often cliche done wrong. I try to steer away from them. loves, losses, pains and triumphs, pieces of a puzzle in their box. Very cliche Some have blurry edges, hard to see. Some are sharp, painful to hold. again, this is implied Turning them this way and that, we examine each, looking for the answer. This long winded explanation could be shortened down to, " trying to fit the pieces back together" which is a bland example but, you get what I mean. We sit in our places, sifting, 'Sitting in place' and 'sifting' are a contradiction longing to be whole.
Epilogue
An Allison is what we need when we are broken, trying to arrange the pieces of ourselves. "arrange our pieces" An Allison knows the answers are there in our box for us to see. were they not for us to see? The right question, an Allison knows, is what will set our pieces free. This rhyme comes out of nowhere.
I feel like I should explain the epilogue thing. Originally I had intended to make it one poem then the first part took on a life of its own, but the second part holds the foundation of my original thesis. That a good question is more the goal than knowing an answer. Thanks again.
Sometimes, the picture of our life gets broken. Our pieces fall out of place and we can’t see how we fit together. Sometimesthe pieces are from different parts, They all scattered around. Sometimes they are from one part and leave a big hole. They sit jumbled in our thoughts; loves, losses, pains and triumphs, pieces of a puzzle in their box. Some have blurry edges, hard to see. Some are sharp, painful to hold. Turning them this way and that, we examine each, looking for the answer. We sit in our places, sifting, longing to be whole.
Epilogue
An Allison is what we need when we are broken, trying to arrange the pieces of ourselves. An Allison knows the answers are there in our box for us to see. The right question, an Allison knows, is what will set our pieces free.
I find "An Allison" to be awkard. I don't really know how to fix it. It's an interesting way to refer to another person, but just grates on my reading. Maybe just say "Allison"?
Off topic, but "an Allison" was why I started writing poetry
“All persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.” Kurt Vonnegut
Sometimes, the picture of our life gets broken.This metaphor would work better if you didn't tell the audience what it meant directly. You could leave out the pronouns to leave a bit of mystery to your piece.
our pieces fall out of place and we can’t see how we fit together. This is implied. Sometimes the pieces are from different parts, all scattered around. Sometimes they are from one part The repetition of sometimes is redundant. I liked the rhythm of it but you're right and leave a big hole. They sit jumbled in our thoughts; Metaphors involving the mind are often cliche done wrong. I try to steer away from them. loves, losses, pains and triumphs, pieces of a puzzle in their box. Very cliche But they are so comfortable! I will rework and try to let the title do the work. Some have blurry edges, hard to see. Some are sharp, painful to hold. again, this is implied Turning them this way and that, we examine each, looking for the answer. This long winded explanation could be shortened down to, " trying to fit the pieces back together" which is a bland example but, you get what I mean. We sit in our places, sifting, 'Sitting in place' and 'sifting' are a contradiction Going to disagree here. sifting isn't a kinetic activity. akin to sorting in my mind longing to be whole.
Epilogue
An Allison is what we need when we are broken, trying to arrange the pieces of ourselves. "arrange our pieces" I like this change. An Allison knows the answers are there in our box for us to see. were they not for us to see? not sure what you mean here. The right question, an Allison knows, is what will set our pieces free. This rhyme comes out of nowhere. A ninja rhyme! This last stanza was from a different version that I plugged in.
I feel like I should explain the epilogue thing. Originally I had intended to make it one poem then the first part took on a life of its own, but the second part holds the foundation of my original thesis. That a good question is more the goal than knowing an answer. Thanks again.
Semi,
thanks for taking the time. I will incorporate and see where it goes!
Sometimes, the picture of our life gets broken. Our pieces fall out of place and we can’t see how we fit together. Sometimesthe pieces are from different parts, They all scattered around. Sometimes they are from one part and leave a big hole. They sit jumbled in our thoughts; loves, losses, pains and triumphs, pieces of a puzzle in their box. Some have blurry edges, hard to see. Some are sharp, painful to hold. Turning them this way and that, we examine each, looking for the answer. We sit in our places, sifting, longing to be whole.
Epilogue
An Allison is what we need when we are broken, trying to arrange the pieces of ourselves. An Allison knows the answers are there in our box for us to see. The right question, an Allison knows, is what will set our pieces free.
I find "An Allison" to be awkard. I don't really know how to fix it. It's an interesting way to refer to another person, but just grates on my reading. Maybe just say "Allison"?
Off topic, but "an Allison" was why I started writing poetry
Thanks again for your time and expertise. I agree that the "an Allison" is a little awkward. Obviously, I am referring to a specific person but wanted to convey a generic quality as well. More interesting than saying "therapist"! No one liked the opening lines so far, will have to work on that.
