Pieces of My Father

I hear my father's voice Everytime I speak Left with little choice That he's a part of me I hear it in the slang My Southern nasel twang In everything I say As I venture through my day When I look into the mirror It's my father's face I see The older that I get Looking back at me I see the many lines He had in his sly smile The kindness that he held When I gazed into his eyes I also hear his laugh In the jokes I tell When the aftermath Doesn't go so well Trying to get the crowd To smile I still try The way my father did As he made his way through life I always feel his love From beyond the grave The preciousness in the gifts That my father gave Every single piece Of his memory That my father placed With love inside of me