If I could sing, you’d be my melody.
Oh, how my melody would be so sweet.
If I were to rap, you’d be my rhyme.
Oh, how my rhyme would be based on facts.
If I could dance, you’d be my rhythm.
Oh, how my rhythm would be like rain and prance.
If I ran track, you’d be my running shoes.
and how my running shoes would make me fast.
If I played baseball, you’d be my bat.
Oh, how my bat would hit homeruns; go long.
If I played football, you’d be my giant.
and oh, how my giant would win it all.
If I wrote a novel, you’d be my title.
Oh, how my title alone would make people take notes.
If I made the New York Times, you’d be my text so precise.
And how my text so precise would be oh, so nice.
If I were paparazzi, you’d be my one and only.
and oh, how my one and only would have that special key.
If this and if that
Most if’s I have done.
But some are yet to come…
Now you are a part of me,
And two became one, you see?
By: Aleasha A. Martin
Copyright © Aleasha Martin