My dad, the Pope

Inspired by long ago conversation about whether the word 'crap' is a swear word. "Well I wouldn't say it in front of my dad" says I, eliciting the response: "Who's your dad, the bloody Pope?"

"Who's your dad, the bloody pope?"

"Near enough!" I say,

"He's not taking any chances

To be true on judgement day."

"He's good and kind and giving.

He is a charitable man,

When there's a chance to help someone

He does whatever he can."

Who's my dad, the bloody pope?

He seems to be a saint,

But is he lost and fearful?

He seems so full of restraint.

Who's my dad, my father?

He's always there for me.

He sometimes shows his softer side,

The one I love to see.

But how do I get approval

From a man who's like the Pope?

No matter how hard I try,

I haven't got a hope

I'm a grown woman now.

Not a child.

Power is shifting.

Unbalancing me.

Power is mine.

For the taking.

Reviews

[Paul Bell]

I think crap is a swear word, moist weeks I shout it at my football team.
The power is truly shifting dad, I've picked your care home.
Not sure I want to be the Pope, you can't really Pope out for a drink when you want one. Mind you, he does have his own wine doesn't he. Put him on my friend list.