Scraps of life

As I try to pick up
the scraps of life
scattered all around
and arrange them neatly,
I sense something amiss
a feeling that something
doesn't really doesn't match
What is it that I forget ?
Can't remember,
as much as I try.
So I have to sit
with those scraps of life,
as they are
and try to put a meaning
to what they convey,
each of them,
individually or together.
None of them are the same,
each so different.
I know I could have
made a wonderful collage
out of them.
Only if I could remember.

--
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Arunangshu Paul
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