My dad always insisted

That he was called Papa.

He told me this, I believe,

Because that’s what he calls his dad.

My dad has a life

That always puts him in danger.

Most people, when they hear a gunshot,

They get out of there as fast as they can.

He runs towards it.

My dad’s best friend,

Who he spent his whole life with,

Through training & camps & more stress than you can believe,

My dad’s best friend

Was the papa of mine.

My best friend’s father died

Living the same way

As my Papa.

And I live with the fear that someday

That’ll be him

In the urn

On the church stage

And then no one will be able to hold my hand

& tell me everything will be alright

Like my Papa always has.