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.