That’s my Dad

I never heard his voice out loud,

But they say he stood strong and proud.

One photo on the mantle shelf,

All I’ve got to know myself.

They say I’ve got his steady eyes,

His quiet heart, his stubborn pride.

He left this world when I was one—

But I still feel what he’s become.

That’s my dad, in the strength I find,

In the way I love and how I try.

In the quiet fight that no one sees,

But somehow still lives on in me.

Though he’s a face I barely had,

Every good part of me says—

That’s my dad.

I’ve heard he’d drop a joke real dry,

And help a stranger without askin’ why.

They say he worked with worn-out hands,

Built a life from dust and land.

I walk a road he never saw,

But I still feel him through it all.

In every choice, in every prayer—

It’s like a whisper sayin’ he’s still there.

That’s my dad, in the way I care,

When I show up, when I’m just there.

In the fire I light when I feel low,

In the strength to let the sorrow go.

Even though I missed the chance we had,

I still hold my head and say—

That’s my dad.

I didn’t need years to feel his soul,

Some love’s too deep to need control.

And every time I stand up tall,

He’s right there—behind it all.

That’s my dad, in my grit and grace,

In my tears and in my faith.

In the way I try to make him proud,

Though I can’t say it to him out loud.

He may be gone, but I’m still glad—

I get to live the life he never had…

And carry his name like a badge.

Yeah, that’s my dad.