Father.

Written for a friend.

Someone to get held by.
Someone to laugh with, or cry,
Even as a guy, someone to drink with.
Or as a girl, someone to spend with.
The companionship you can only expect
From the man that brought you up. You can bet

You depend on him. His familiar scent,
Staining his clothes. The smell of protection, your Clark Kent.
But stronger than Superman, he's your Father.
And as much as you argue, you'd rather
Just curl into his arms. Even as a guy
And watch a film, by the fire. A beer on the sly.

And if he'd die. You can't replace him.
He's always at the forefront of your mind, however dim
The memories fade. That smell will linger on
Forever in his clothes that you wear, as his son.
As his daughter. Missing the time you spent together.
Your father. Your friend. Birds of a feather.