If you’re a puzzle, I’d put all of your pieces together—
all except one.
You should be the one who hands it to me.
That’s what I want.
If you’re a river, I’d follow your current.
I’ll drench myself in you,
lose myself in your riverbanks.
But I’ll never try to dam you up.
You’re water that should flow free,
If you’re an artist,
I’ll comment and critique.
Stare at your works with awe and intrigue.
But never change to fit my taste,
I know my place.
If you’re a mess, that’s okay.
Just make it beautiful.
For them and me to see and grow appeal.
But most of all, make it beautiful enough for you to feel.
But what are you?
If you’re a puzzle, I’ll give you my piece.
If you’re a river, I’ll flow into your streams.
If you’re an artist, I’ll paint with you into the seams.
If you’re a mess, I’ll help you clean.
But I need to know what you are to know what I am.
I need to know what you can’t do,
and which ones of those I can.
Because you can survive on your own
but it’s never really enough to be alone.
So as long as I’m here,
as long as I’m near,
I’ll try to be of use.
I hope this will reach your heart’s ears.
So what are you?