nothin A little piece of flotsam floated slowly past by on a river with all of them All slowly passing by. As it drifted slowly along, some disquiet in it crept real came staight, imagination oblong " How long had I slept?" Hey, Hold on, What's all this going on? How come I'm drifting away? Is it noon, or night, or dusk, or dawn? Stop all this stuff, I say! I was a beautiful piece of puzzle fitting beautifully in a beautiful jigsaw, Everthing was right, so perfect Then why now everthing raw? And now, where am I? Among all these flotsams why am I slowly drifting by pass these, pass those, pass them? Well, I guess I'll find a new puzzle and fit cozily right in. That's all required, its so simple now the world can continue it's 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. --- I know it's not exactly intense and rich, but poetry is expression, right?