The Pieces

There are pieces.

Pieces of a person that get lost over time. Or maybe found.

It's like our life comes to us in fragments.

We struggle through our adolescence only to discover how ineffectual that struggle was in our adulthood.

How Irrelevant.

We live our lives egocentric. Convinced the purpose of our life is to discover our own happiness.

It's so ingrained in our beliefs that it's a precept of entire nation's constitutions.

Only when we're older. When our skin has lost its turgor and is thin as paper, that our hearts strong as stone realize,

The only important purpose for any person is to raise those incapable of raising themselves.

To live entirely for someone else.

And all that time spent pursuing selfish things was wasted.

Was irrelevant.

We spend our lives discovering our own irrelevance.