Mosaic

A bunch of beautiful tiles,
With so much potential.
So fragile,
Yet,
So beautiful.

One tried to make them into something,
But, he did not.
His uncaring hands broke them,
They lost their beauty,
They were broken,
He abandoned them.

A bunch of broken tiles,
Unfit for use.
No longer having a purpose.
Broken and thrown away.
No one could see the potential,
No one could see the beauty.
Except one.

The one who picked up the broken pieces
And made a beautiful picture.
But that one did not stay.
That person left all the pieces loose,
To fall apart at the slightest breeze.
Leaving them to fall apart.

Then there was another who saw the beauty,
The potential.
One who put the pieces together,
Made it even better.
One who tried to hold the pieces in place.
One who tried to be the grout.

Yet, that person failed.
He broke a tile while trying to put it back together.
Made it worse.
He didn't give up,
He tried to fix his mistake,
But only ended up breaking more tiles.
Making everything worse.
He could not be the grout,
To hold the loose tiles together.
To keep them from falling apart.

Now the tiles just wait,
Waiting for someone to come along,
Someone to fix all the broken pieces.
To make them into a beautiful work of art.
Just waiting,

But unstable,
Without a grout to hold them together,
They will just fall apart while waiting.
All the beauty lost,
All the great potential
lost forever.

Maybe that one person it has been waiting for,
The grout,
Has been there all along.
What if it was the one who tried and failed.
Maybe, maybe not.
Maybe.

Now the tiles just wait,
For someone to out them back together,
To hold them together,
To keep them together,
To be the grout,
To make them something beautiful,
To make them into a mosaic.