Our Puzzle edit2

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[font=等线]Our Puzzle[/font]

Sometimes, the picture of our life gets broken.
Our pieces fall out of place and
we can’t see how we fit together.
Sometimes the pieces are from different parts,   They
all scattered around.
Sometimes they are from one part
and leave a big hole.
They sit jumbled in our thoughts;
loves, losses, pains and triumphs,
pieces of a puzzle in their box.
Some have blurry edges, hard to see.
Some are sharp, painful to hold.
Turning them this way and that,
we examine each,
looking for the answer.
We sit in our places,
sifting,
longing to be whole.

Epilogue

An Allison is what we need                            
when we are broken, trying
to arrange the pieces of ourselves.
 
An Allison knows the answers 
are there in our box for us to see.
The right question, an Allison knows,
is what will set our pieces free.

I find "An Allison" to be awkard.  I don't really know how to fix it.  It's an interesting way to refer to another person, but just grates on my reading.  Maybe just say "Allison"?  

Off topic, but "an Allison" was why I started writing poetry