I could probably write
Fifty poems for you,
And you still wouldn't see,
That they all could come true.
I've been playing this game,
For a very long time,
And I don't understand,
Why I play like a mime.
I think I'm giving up this business,
At least for a while.
But It'll probably take some time,
For me to crack a smile.
I'm sick of always losing,
At this game every day.
Every time I get a puzzle piece,
Someone snatches it away.
Only a few of you out there,
Will understand what this means.
So this poem's for you,
A prelude to my screams.
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