My mind does that – you know thinks in fragments
The memory plays with fragments, small moments
Many days I have are fragmented by moods 
Drifting here and there and god knows where 
Why do I try to combine the bits I will never know
Because they don’t fit together correctly, so
I waste my time fixing this one thought with another.

Fuck it they won’t go here nor anywhere I can see,
Reluctant to throw them away I store each fragment
Until the weight of them cracks my reserve, I cry
Then the fragments mysteriously all join up without me
Doing a damn thing to them, leaving me wondering
What the hell was all that about – I will never know.

How can a life exist in a fragmented world of pieces
Of thoughts memories dreams and nightmares 
Why does the fragmentation happen anyway?
To conjure confusion, sorrow, long forgotten
Places where I once was but cannot now remember,
For I have not been here before nor felt this way
Maybe I need to submerge myself in music and poems.

Go deep into my spiritual character shun the heavy stuff
Throw off the blood stained cloak dripping on the floor
Where all the knives were shoved into my back
Without me hardly knowing not feeling anything,
The cloak I want to see fragmented dead lying
On the floor gasping for air as I walk away again. 

These verses keep on coming, what do you think?
Deeper than the usual – as I look under a tall pile
Of fragments – the knitting of the parts long gone
Into a past that wasn’t really me anyway, who cares?
The scars from the more jagged fragments a reminder
Of the faces of those who broke all my fragments
And throw them asunder and played tricks on me.

Pretending they held all the pieces in their hands 
And telling me they would hand them to me one day
At the right time and place but it never happened.
So I sit here looking at all the fragments knowing 
I can never mend them or put them back together,
Fragments rule the day and will not move over. 

Will I ever learn to cast down all these fragments 
Or will I have to learn the same lessons over again
All the time wondering where each piece has come from;
They want to be going somewhere much better than here
I know it I can feel it – when they reach their goal
They will form into perfect patterns of happiness
Pleasing to the eye uplifting of the heart no less.

It is then that I will understand why my life’s in fragments
Of what I really wanted and in the way I wanted them.
No more the fragments of promise no more deflection
But a large colourful picture of life as it should be
Something to be admired, something to be lived 
In profound solid foundation, giving away nothing.