Misfits 🧩
In the realm of life, as you stand,
With no wishes, no hopes in hand,
Like a lost river, unsure of its flow,
Where each drop moves, confused, about where to go.
But if you look patiently at the tiny pieces of a puzzle's design,
It's only at the end that the pieces seem to align.
Even the scattered stars, once lost in the night,
Turn into constellations, shining bright.
The jumbled notes or the rhythm-less sounds ,
Also become melodies that seem profound.
The chaos of the storm, wild and untamed,
Return to its calmness and peace is redeemed.
Even faded maps, with paths unclear,
Hold the promise of destinations near.
For in the end, what may seem wrong
Finds its purpose, and life goes on.
So fear not the twists, the turns, the bends,
For every journey always finds its end.
And though the start may seem a misfit,
In this puzzle of life, as the last piece fits,
And the picture completes,
Everything eventually turns sweet.
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