Someone with your abilities,
Can not sit to describe or make understood.
What it is you do.
You were born to live and breathe,
To be who you are.
Without thought to give.
And neither can you teach it.
Nor show anyone from where to start.
This what you have is within your heart.
Those exposed to your various skills.
Assume they too can produce,
What you do to make look easy.
To discover eventually,
Imitation to flatter is not originality.
Originality many choose.
After discovering,
A quality they can not refuse.
And you?
You 'ARE' original.
That bright light at the end of a tunnel.
You 'ARE' unique.
Like a pair of comfortable shoes.
Only one's feet know when they meet.
You 'ARE' extremely gifted with talents.
Beyond what can be taught.
To others you simply can not teach.
Although that thought may be,
What others keep in their heads to believe.
You 'ARE',
Who you were born to be.
With it lived to breathe 24/7.
That 'it' is yours.
And only yours.
To have been blessed to keep.
Dedicated:
To my gifted nephew and niece.
And their incredible children.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem. Each of us are unique and born and gifted with some special traits. A very nice poem parted to your niece and nephews. Something they will remember always.