It is not trying
To fit the pieces
The picture will never
Be the picture again
I have counted
Measured many times

Asked the salesman for
a copy and
He gave me the
Beauty of the
World with
Frames to fit

My eye beholding as
My finger pointed
Every flaw
Of a beauty
Once so raw

When the waves came
Rolling in, they
Left me nothing
And with everything given
I put the pieces
Where they belonged

But the heart was missing

The heart was missing