Poems from Transplanted Patients (Poems for Organ Donors Below)
MY DONOR FAMILY IF NOT FOR YOU A NEW LIFE

It came from someone I never knew.
But sent to me that’s all I know.
It didn’t arrive in a box or sack
And is a gift one would never send back.
The gift in size is rather small
Compared to its power to conquer all.
You’ll never hold this gift in your hand
It’s given to people throughout the land…
This beautiful gift has set me free
What a precious gift and given to me.
This gift was given out of selfless love
And delivered to me with help from above.
These gifts are so priceless, valuable and few
When you know of this gift, you will agree too.
With this gift I can hold my head high
To dream the impossible and reach for the sky.
This gift has taught me to scream and shout
Now let me tell you what this gift is about.
This gift will not be taken in strife
The gift I speak of is that of life.
The gift of life handed me a key
It opened doors and set me free.
Organs aren’t needed at your final destination
Leave them on Earth without hesitation.
Every human will someday be called to come home
Your organs may stay and continue to roam.
No need for organs in the heavens above
Leave them on Earth for others to live & love
………………………………………………………………….

If not for you

There was a time not long ago,

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Poems from Organ Donor

When that happens, do not attempt to instil artificial life into my body by the use of a machine. And don’t call this my deathbed. Let it be called the bed of life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.
Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby’s face or love in the eyes of a woman.
Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain.
Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to see his grandchildren play.
Give my kidneys to the one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week.
Take my bones, every muscle, every fibre and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk.
Explore every corner of my brain.
Take my cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that, someday a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain against her window.
Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers grow.
If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weakness and all prejudice against my fellow man.
Give my sins to the devil.
Give my soul to God.
If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.
Remember Me (2)
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