Round peg, round hole

Part 1 of a 2-part poetry experiment

Image from Flickr user Tom Page

Some days I am the square peg
Without a place to belong
Sharp corners needing to be rounded
So I can fit like others seem to

Some days I am the diamond peg
On first glance it looks like
I might belong, but deeper study shows
My angles aren’t quite right

Some days I am the triangle peg
Able to appear OK but only filling
Half. Never enough to go around,
Afraid no place to belong exists

Some days, I am the star peg
Shining brighter than I feel
Dancing along to keep up with myself
Burning out all too soon

Some days, I am the round peg
The people I am with understand me
The things that I do, work well
On those rare days, I rejoice

For being the round peg,
Who’s found its round hole,
That is to truly belong
That is to have found a home

Read part 2 of this exercise here:

Square peg, round hole — Kathy Jacobs — Medium

What’s this all about?

Trying to make things fit — Kathy Jacobs — Medium