Papa

You went to the war, but I’m just broken.

We’re both rambunctious, when not soft spoken.

Hit on waitresses, joke with a stranger, leave with a smile.

Tell nothing true or real, just let it all burn, that’s our style.

 

You’ll comment on Facebook on a link about a bastard in D.C.

You’re excited when I get home, but won’t say anything else to me.

I didn’t come from a mad home like you did, but I’m just as sealed in.

I have your love, I am your good son, but your soul I cannot ever win.

 

We rode all the way to the sea when I was a boy, when you drove a big truck.

When I was little it was so easy, before I had my troubles, you were playful puck.

I had my dark days and I turned away, and I can’t be the sweet child that I was before.

I don’t know how I ended up this way. I never wanted for love. I never fought a war.

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