Waiting Bench

Seeking for meaning,
in a life strewn with debris.
I sift through the pieces,
trying to figure out which are me.
Little is cohesive,
most are random fragments,
that drift in loose places.
Then a thought for the moment,
becomes trapped between two layers.
It slowly begins to foment.
And so I begin to wonder,
then soon I grow more sure,
That I’m just a bit player,
in someone else’s life.