There’s a little piece of me,
which doesn’t feel at home.
Even in a crowd,
it can still feel quite alone.
No one seems
to know its name.
Or, that it exists.
So, I wonder if it ever left,
would this piece be missed?
8th December, 2015
Re-reading this poem a few days later, I am quite conscious that on first impressions, it appears quite dark and melancholy.This is not entirely unusual for my poetry as I often write poetry as a way of venting my spleen or as a way of dealing with intense angst or frustration, like releasing a pressure valve.
However, while it initially appears quite melancholy, I hope it’s impact is paradoxically quite positive. That it actually connects a kaleidoscope of missing pieces who start to feel part of wider whole. A sense of: “Me too!” or “I’m not the only one!”
So many of us can be incredibly self-conscious about our various idiosyncrasies and yet even when we are the only one, there ares till other only ones out there we can connect with. We are not as alone as we believe or as weird, different…or even as talented!
If you enjoyed this poem, you could well enjoy the book: The Missing Piece by Shel Silverstein. Have you read it? I love his work.
Indeed, I just found this beautiful animated version. It’s just incredible! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mT0wKeJQvGk
which is quite a departure the more uplifting things I’ve written in the past from I can’t help wondering if everyone feels there is this part of themselves which doesn’t quite connect with the world? A part which is somehow awkward. Doesn’t fit in. Is a bit odd, skewiff or something?
I know I’m not alone is feeling like this at times.
I think for most of us, for whatever reason, there is this sense of disconnection and not belonging or quite fitting in. Sometimes, this can be a point of pride because we’re creative, an individual one-off? We’re not one of these photocopied clones…a Barbie or Ken!
Personally, I struggle with having what you could call an invisibility and straddling the worlds of chronic health and disability and because I appear fully mobile, I am expected to comply with all sorts of unwritten social norms, which can be quite difficult for me e.g. standing in long queues, walking on uneven ground.
Every now and then, however, I have met people who almost immediately see that hidden secret piece and I immediately feel whole, less fragmented, disjointed or even alienated. It is like diving deep into a healing spring and I can feel myself becoming whole again.
I personally find it important to talk about this hidden part of ourselves because I strongly believe, though without professional training, that if that piece doesn’t get nourished and doesn’t find kindred spirits, that we truly will struggle to be happy, healthy and grow into all we could become.