Each year a thread, each step a seam, And slowly, I became the dream. If growth had a sound, it would be still— A quiet "yes," a louder will.
I wore time like layers of skin, Each year a chapter stitched within. This poem is a mirror—hold it near, You'll see my past and yours appear.
Before I had a name, I was a prayer, A breath suspended in the mercy of air. Curled in a space where silence was, A soul waiting for its earthly applause.
I didn’t walk—I floated in grace, Known only to the One who gave me place. No thoughts came up, no words—just sacred sleep, A life, no sound, just secrets to keep.
Then light—too bright. Then sound—so wide. I entered life unsure, untired, A baby soft with spirit new, Not knowing what I’d grow into.
Hands touched me and called me "mine," But I belonged to the greater design. Each cry was a question I couldn’t speak, Each smile a language still unique.
Had no worries to be kept behind, I played all day, slept the whole night. Felt the emotions—raw and true— Love and care that each day grew.
Laid on bed, watched lights in awe— Didn't know I’d get lost in them, how?
Then I learned to crawl, to walk; Running was something more than talk. Unaware of what it feels to fall, But I stood up each time, small but tall.
The injured knee, the bruise, the cut— The blood used to gush forward. Clotting was the only healing I knew at that time— Wonderful, adorable, with some hype.
To learn to speak was something different— Cooing, babbling, to the alphabet. Clueless of what did hide in words— Daggers, knives, guns, or pistols.
Each birthday lit a quiet flame— A softer me, but not the same. Did I grow too fast or didn’t pay heed? How’s the story? Enjoying? Indeed.
Childhood is something I remember— Toys and school, Homework and sleep-slumber. It was a beautiful time, But I was unmindful back then, in rhyme.
Teenage was a ride— From cuteness to a cool disguise. But I was a fusion of both— Sigma, rizz, Ohio growth.
At first, I was all wonder—eyes wide, Seeing beauty where no one else tried. But soon came the questions: Why do we fall? Why do we hurt, and who do we call?
I didn’t have the answers—not back then— But I listened to something deep within. I didn’t know that pain could teach, Until it stretched what joy could reach.
Years passed like seasons—changing me too, Turning my edges from red to blue. I felt things deeply, but couldn’t yet see That everything I’d been would shape who I’d be.
Adolescence came like an untamed fire; It burned through the quiet, through desire. And though I felt lost in the middle of the storm, I was finding the strength to stand tall and warm.
I began to see pieces of me I’d missed, Shaped by time, by lessons, by a fist That reached down to guide me through doubt and fear— To show me that growth was always near.
But it wasn’t until today that I saw it clear: The truth I’d been given all these years. My Lord wrote beauty into my days— Even in silence, even in maze.
Some call it fate, some call it chance— But I was written in advance. I learned that softness isn't weak; It's strength that's humble when it speaks.
Oh Lord, for all the ungratefulness, I seek Your mercy and forgiveness. You were always there by my side— You loved me even when I stepped aside.
After all this time, I realize: I was a gift all along—surprise! A gift for me, that was blessed— A gift of life I didn’t value, I must confess.
I'm thankful and grateful to You, my Lord, For everything You blessed me with— From skies to the shore. Would've been nothing, but You granted me existence. It is the moment I found I was never for instance.
There is much more, but the words now do fumble. From then to now, what I've become—it's a miracle. My Lord has been very kind to me in fate— From embryogenesis, 11:59 p.m., till this date.
"I Was the Gift All Along" is a heartfelt journey through life's stages, from birth to self-realization, this poem embraces personal growth, lessons learned, and divine gratitude. Each moment is stitched into the fabric of time, revealing the beauty in softness and strength. Through reflections on childhood, adolescence, and faith, it celebrates the miracle of existence. Ultimately, it is an ode to embracing oneself as a gift.
Scribble Unscripted: Volume Zer0 brings poetry to life through candid, heartfelt verses. This sequel captures raw emotions and fleeting moments, exploring themes of love, loss, and hope with spontaneity and charm. Dive in and discover the magic in the unscripted.
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