He built his world on calloused palms,
Raised a home with a worn-out psalm.

He taught me how to fix what’s broke,
How to bite my tongue and bear the smoke.
Said “Son, don’t fear what you can’t mend,
Just don’t forget what made you bend.”

In my father’s hands, I learned the weight of time,
The cost of love, the edge of pride.
He fought his demons, I fight mine,
In my father’s hands, I find my spine.

He held the storm, I held his name,
Both of us lost, both to blame.
Now I see his ghost when I look inside,
That same old fire I used to fight.

He said, “Son, this life don’t come with peace,
Just moments where the pain lets you breathe.”
And I still hear him in the rain,
Sayin’ “boy, you’ll learn from pain.”

In my father’s hands, I learned the strength to stand,
The grace to fail, to understand.
If love’s a wound, then I’m still manned,
By my father’s hands, my father’s hands.

Everything I am… was in my father’s hands.