The Missing Piece

There are times in my life
When I feel like a mug
A mug with a hole in the bottom
No matter how much you pour into me
I will never be full

You could try patching me up
But it will do no good whatsoever
For the broken piece
Is the only piece that could ever make me whole

But that piece is gone for good
That fragment that would complete me
Has disappeared and vanished
Like the mist in the morning

At times there is a piece
Which looks as if it might fit
But when tested
Proves to be yet another phony

So I still seek
To find that one solitary shard
Which would end my emptiness
Which would fill me
And make me whole again