Just like a puzzle piece,
a crinkled dried up leaf,
Crushed with a hand,
crushed with a heart.
So crushable,
yet set on being stable,
consistent and steady,
unfortunately,
the leaves are not ready,
this puzzle piece does not fit,
and it cannot be forced to fit,
it is it's own piece.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
unique piece you wrote.