There was always a part of me,
The me that I call
INCOMPLETE.
This INCOMPLETE remains incomplete
Unfulfilled, and even lost in its make believe.
Have you this INCOMPLETE in you
That looks and looks,
Only never to find?
Hoping and hoping...
Oops, there's a dream deferred.
Wishing and wishing
Yet wishes keep on slipping...
Praying and praying
Praying that God will hear your every wish, want,
Or better yet, need?
That INCOMPLETE is in me,
So much that I call it a part of me,
Craving to erase the INCOMPLETE
I try and try
Through various modes,
Yet INCOMPLETE returns back to me.
I sometimes ponder what does this mean,
And conclude that no more than my God
Who is far greater than man,
Matter,
And life,
Will be able to fill this INCOMPLETE I simply call ME.