I inherited a puzzle. 10,000 pieces. I counted.
No edges for frame, no edges in sight. the picture inscribed in a lost box I’ve not seen, no center to start from. no left. no right.
a picture without color, a drawing without line buried in my head, glimpses at a time
each piece looks the same, all covered in white nothing quite fits, I wish I had a knife. I swear i’m getting there, I’ll work all night…
a sliver here, a sliver there Look these two fit! 10,000 pieces… you start not to care
My puzzle has too many pieces I don’t think they all fit. I’ve done what I can. a new day has dawned, with this my work ceases
I leave this puzzle to you, my son take all these pieces, all 10,000. and One.
Here’s another poem.
Downvotes due to AI art
AI wastes resources
Environment destroyed
Jobs killed
Fascism installed
Please do not use
Let poetry speak for
itself
Good poem. This good and real piece of art you weote would hit harder without the fake AI art you included with it.
