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A little piece of Flotsam


A little piece of Flotsam,

floated slowly past by

on a river with all of them

all slowly passing by.

 

As it drifted slowly aloong,

some disquiet in it crept

real came straight, imagination oblong

“how long had i slept?”

 

“Hey! hold on! what’s all this going on?”

how come I am drifting away?

Is it noon, is it night, is it dust, is it dawn

stop all this stuff I say!

 

I was a beautiful piece of puzzle

fitting perfectly in a beautiful jigsaw

everything was right, so snug

then why now everything raw?

 

And now, where am i

among all these flotsams

why am I slowly drifting by

pass these, pass those, past them.

 

Well, i guess, i’ll find a new puzzle

and fit cozily right in

that’s all required, so simple

now the world can continue its spin.

 

But to the little flotsam, no one told

that a piece from a puzzle fit no other

that it wasn’t a piece of sparkling gold

or a song so sweet, a fair so feather.

 

And it did, this unpolished gem

try settle in, to atleast try

a little piece of flotsam

floating slowly past by.

————————————————–

– Written a long time ago, when school had ended and college had begun, and everything felt unfamiliar.

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