The strands of time
bleed down through the years
and form what I have become.
Looking back at the picture
my life shows many ups and downs.
Long strands of pain and pleasure
weaving their portrait of me;
who I am today, where I have gone,
who I am becoming
after all that has been said and done.
Still I look back and see
what it is I have always wanted
and what it is that I have not found.
I have been touched by love;
yet love has never found a home.
My picture is incomplete
until the day I find the artist's heart
that will match my own
and it paints one last stroke
to make my picture complete.
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