There are two sides to every story.
Two shoes in every pair.
Two eyes on every face,
And two lungs next to our hearts.

Everything has a place,
A partner in crime,
A spot in a puzzle,
And a seat at the table.

But what if I’m alone?
What if I have lost my pair?

Another puzzle piece has taken my place.
My partner has disappeared,
And my other lung has been donated.

While everyone else goes off where the belong,
I stay.
With the misfits, the sad sacks,
The other poor souls.

I watch as everyone else
Enjoys their fun with twos and threes.
But I am stuck,
In the life of one.