Beads

I had a bag of beads,
to make a necklace you see.
big ones, little ones, clear ones and cloudy ones.
string, clasp and pliers all ready to start

I laid them all out, such pretty colors, such odd shapes
all as a puzzle waiting to be put together.
As I looked at them, nothing did i see

a long one here, a short one there
clear one, and black one, only pieces that didnt fit
nothing went together, nothing fashionably perfect

oh the dispare I felt
as the pieces of my life, nothing fits
nothing makes sense
nothing looked right
as the tears fell on my cheek
I asked, why, why is nothing fitting together
Some are given diamonds, some are given sticks and stones
why is life so difficult?