The Gift

If my dad were alive, he'd

be sitting right there

Watching me up here, with a

smile on his face

He'd be proud of the man I've

become

He'd be proud that I stepped u

to take this place

If my mother were alive, she'd

be at home

Teaching my brother all the

things she taught me

She'd be proud of the man I've

become

She'd be proud of who I grew

up to be

But they aren't here. They

haven't been for a while.

It takes time, but it's starting to

make sense.

I still miss them every time I

take a breath.

Their absence will never go un-

noticed.

But every smile on your face

seems to replace

A memory I'd rather not hold

Each time you laugh, it fills a

void

Each kiss heals another wound

in my soul

If my dad were here, he'd be

sitting with you

He'd be hugging you . . . saying

thank you.

Thank you for saving my boy.

Thank you for bringing light to

his world.

If my mother were here, she'd

be so happy

To finally have a daughter in

her life

She'd love you as much as I

love you

She'd make me promise to one

day make you my wife

But they aren't here. They

haven't been for a while.

But I can feel their pride. I can

feel their smiles.

I can hear them say, "You're

welcome, Will."

When I thank them for

sending you from heaven.

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My Final Piece

We're born in to the

world

As just one small piece to the

puzzle

That make up an entire life.

It's up to us throughout our

years,

to find all of our pieces that fit.

The pieces that connect who we

are

To who we were

To who we'll one day be.

Sometimes pieces will almost

fit.

They'll feel right.

We'll carry them around for a

while,

Hoping they'll change shape.

Hoping they'll conform to our

puzzle.

But they won't.

We'll eventually have to let

them go.

To find the puzzle that is their

home.

Sometimes pieces won't fit at

all.

No matter how much we want

them to.

We'll shove them.

We'll bend them.

We'll break them.

But what isn't meant to be,

won't be.

Those are the hardest pieces of

all to accept.

The pieces of our puzzle

That just don't belong.

But occasionally . . .

Not very often at all,

If we're lucky,

If we pay enough attention,

We'll find a

perfect match.

The pieces of the puzzle that

slide right in

The pieces that hug the con-

tours of our own pieces.

The pieces that lock to us.

The pieces that we lock to.

The pieces that fit so well, we

can't tell where our piece begins

And that piece ends.

Those pieces we call

Friends.

True loves.

Dreams.

Passions.
Beliefs.

Talents.

They're all the pieces that complete

our puzzles.

They line the edges,

Frame the corners,

Those pieces are the pieces that

make us who we are.

Who we were.

Who we'll one day be.

Up until today,

When I looked at my own puzzle,

I would see a finished piece.

I had the edges lined,

The corners framed,

The center filled.

It felt like it was complete.

All the pieces were therespan.

I had everything I wanted.

Everything I needed.

Everything I dreamt of.

But up until today,

I realized I had collected all

but one piece.

The most vital piece.
The piece that completes the

picture.

The piece that completes my

whole life.

I held this girl in my arms

She wrapped her tiny fingers

around mine.

It was then that I realized

She was the fusion.

The glue.

The cement that bound all my

pieces together.

The piece that seals my puzzle.

The piece that completes my

life.

The element that makes me

who I am.

Who I was.

Who I'll one day be.
You, my baby girl.

You're my final piece.

You may wonder why there are words in bold, I have yet to find it out too. Haha, I seriously don't know why there are words like that... maybe they rhyme to the other or is connected to other words. I don't know. All I know is I seriously fell in love with slam poetry that I am planning to do one soon. Will post it here if I managed to do so... there, I hope you liked it too. :)