Teen Poetry Collections

The Missing Puzzle Piece

by a young woman, age 17

The girl with the scars—
That’s what people call me.

I’ve always been the type of person to hide everything.
The girl that you’ll see with the fat smile,
But the second you turn, I’m crying fat tears.

I don’t want to show weakness,
And in my eyes, weakness is crying.
I know it’s not true, but I beat myself up over it.

Hyper and upbeat—
In a large group, I’m the one sitting on the wall in silence.

Half the time I’m pretty, half the time I’m ugly.
That’s the way I see myself,
And the way others see me, too.

It makes me feel left out,
Like I’m that missing puzzle piece
Stuffed in the back of the closet,
That no one will ever find again.

It’s easy to complete a puzzle with only one piece missing,
But you can’t make a puzzle out of only one piece.