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Poems of COPS

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Hellboy_max50

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Posted over 5 years ago

 

We answered the calls just as they’d come

A man with a knife, two more with a gun

Fights that broke out in back alleys and bars

Chasing down felons in fresh stolen cars


My partner and I were always ready for hell

We watched each others’ back, we did it quite well

We’ve been shot at and missed by thugs selling rocks

We’ve been battered from rooftops with garbage and blocks


The word on the street was we’d take no guff

The skells would say we were fair but damn tough

Yup, ready for anything I always said

Never surprised… until I learned he was dead


See my partner worked overtime he needed more pay

He had two little boys and a girl on the way

No it wasn’t a robbery or a felon on the run

He just stopped a kid, to say be careful, have fun


But the kid on the bike was high on cocaine

Now my partner lay dead, a bullet in his brain.

I miss him real bad, he thought just like me

When I’m walking my beat, his face I still see


Every call he is with me, still watching my back

His voice reminds me, don’t ever slack

Take nothing for granted, keep on your toes

Cause, when’s YOUR shift end…? One never knows.


Poem Called: One Never Knows....

Hellboy_max50

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A man, just a man, simple and sublime

No more than normal most of the time

But when it gets tough, you know he’ll be true

Because he is a Cop and that’s what Cops do


He deals with the heartache and then he moves on

Not showing emotion because that could cause him harm

At times he seems callous and laughs at the wrong things

It is just his way of fighting the reality that stings


The things that he sees and the jobs he must do

Are like waves of emotions that he has to wade through

Most times he’ll keep dry, as they’re often small swells

But e ach time he’s not looking… a large wave rings his bell


The tough one he is… yeah, he hides it real good

Till it rips him apart and he cries like he should

The pain and the sadness he fought off all those years

Finally shows up and it rains… Hero’s Tears


Poem Called: Hero's Tears

Hellboy_max50

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Rated +1 | Posted over 5 years ago

 

I have been where you fear to go...

I have seen what you fear to see...

I have done what you fear to do...

All these things I've done for you.


I am the one you lean upon...

The one you cast your scorn upon...

The one you bring your troubles to...

All these people I've been for you.


The one you ask to stand apart...

The one you feel should have no heart...

The one you call the man in blue...

But I am human just like you.


And through the years I've come to see...

That I'm not what you ask of me...

So take this badge and take this gun...

Will you take it? Will anyone?


And when you watch a person die...

And hear a battered baby cry...

Then so you think that you can be

All those things you ask of me...?


Poem called: Tears of a Cop.


 

Lenacallcenter_max50

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Thank You and God Bless you, those are the most moving Police Poems. They brought tears to my eyes.  I would encourage all to read them.


Lena

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Those were some Great poems very up lifting Thanks

Hellboy_max50

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I protect the streets while your asleep

For why

I cannot tell

It is a feeling down inside of me;

But the feeling I cannot tell


If I see you hurting or crying

I will ask you what is wrong

and if I can help you I will try

for that is my job


Why can't I show

the love for the people I protect

if I do you will see

I am human after all


I may be hard

I may be cruel

But in the end you will see

I do it because I care

not to satisfy me


I wish you could see me at home

with my love ones I hold so dear;

then you would see I am human

and not to think of me in fear


To all that do support me

I thank you one and all

for it is you that gives me strength

to give the world my all


Poem Called:      Why?

Lenacallcenter_max50

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This was another great one.  You really know how to put it all in words.  I have served on the street and also in the radio room, and Police are so misunderstood while trying to do their jobs to the best of their ability without being partial or judgemental, that's for the courts and judges to do.  Thanks again my friend for a fine piece or poetry that is from the heart. 


Lena

Lenacallcenter_max50

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DO3461, a Communications Specialist in LE  has forwarded me this beautiful poem, I'd like to share with you.

A Dispatcher's Prayer


Lord, They're In Our Hands Tonight,Yours And Mine -

Those Guys And Gals Who Keep The Peace And Fight The Crime.

They're Men With Wives And Families,

And Feelings, too.


They Give Themselves For Our Protection, Those Men In Blue.

I Know My Part In This Is Crucial, Too.

I Must Inform Those Men In Blue.

When Trouble Strikes, And Where.

And Send Them Quickly, No Time To Spare.


I Cannot See The Scene From Where I Sit.

My Eyes And Ears Scan The Console, Brightly Lit.

I Must Wait In Blind Suspense

To Hear Each "10-4",

As They Let Me Know They Have Survived One More Time.


I Know A Part Of Them That Few Others See,

Their Eyes Reflecting Scenes Deplicting How Cruel Life Can Really Be.

A Battered Child, A Senseless Wreck,

Or A Murderer Set Free.

A Brother In Arms Shot Down,

Never To Be.


I'll Make The Coffee, And Keep It Fresh And Strong

They'll Stop By For A Cup Or Two, But Not For Long

Another Call, A Plea, or Just Happenstance.

Duty Will Beckon, "Come, Time To Take Another Chance"


I'll Answer The Phone And Questions Too.

And Dig Out The Stats And Records They Ask Me To.

I'll type The Reports And Of Course, Joke With Them Some.

I'll Even Put Off That Reporter Who Dials In On 911.


Let Me, Lord, Speak Calm And Clear,

To Those Out There While I Am Here.

I Am Their Link, And They Are Mine

In This Partnership Of Fighting Crime,


It Seems To Me That We're All A Team

They, You, And Me.

I Mean I'll Do My Best , And They Will Too.

But, Still Lord, We Need You To See Us Through.


Amen


Author Unknown

Lenacallcenter_max50

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They are only Mine for a little while


They are only mine for a little while Lord, so let me pray over the men and women in uniform and plainclothes as I begin work, entrusting them to your care on my watch.


They are only mine for a little while, so let me laugh when they joke with me because laughter heals the soul.


They are only mine for a little while, so let me dilligently get them the information they need quickly and accurately, as it could save lives.


They are only mine for a little while, so let me obtain the most pertainant and best information from the caller , let my voice be calm and let me have empathy.


They are only mine for a little while, so let me advise of a street location that they may find their way.


They are only mine for a little while, so let me remember that the cruiser number means more to me that just that number, there and people working hard to save lives in the car, and they sometimes need a few minutes of break.


They are only mine for a little while, so when someone suffers a loss, I'll take the time to pay my respects, as we never know for whom the bell will toll next.


They are only mine for a little while, so let me do the best for America, my City and my Police Department every day.


 


Author -- Earlene Hicks


 

Hellboy_max50

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A cop was killed one somber night,

They buried him today.

He gave his life to do a job.

A wooden box his pay.


Taps were played and the shots were fired

That signified the loss.

They echoed 'cross the lonely land.

All eyes stared at the cross.


The folded flag was passed along

To his widow's shaking hands.

She held her daughter in her arms,

And answered her demands.


"So cry, my dear, don't hold it back,

Don't lock it up inside.

We loved him so and he loved us,

He served his land with pride."


"He gave his life to do a job,

That others could not do.

He proudly wore that silver shield,

With pride we'll miss him too."


The young lass, with tear-filled eyes,

Then turned and faced her mother.

"This promise I give, I vow today,

I'll never give another."


"Some day I too will wear the blue

And stand among the best.

I'll serve my land and do my job,

Dad's badge pinned to my chest."


"But if I too should fall some day,

Fighting to hold that line,

Then take the badge from off my chest,

Give me my box of pine."


"And take that badge and keep it bright,

For there will come another,

Who'll pin it on a shirt of blue,

And swear that oath of honor."


"And while he stands with lifted hand,

His chest filled out with pride,

Beside and behind will stand the ones

Who served, who fought, who died."


Though officers die, families cry,

Others will come along,

To take the badge so worn with pride,

To try and right the wrong.


It's those who watch while others serve,

Who owe a debt not small.

These ones in blue, with silver shield,

Stand firm, stand fast, stand tall.


 


Poem Called: The Badge

Hellboy_max50

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I work in a place that most would not dare

Many types of hats they ask me to wear

Like a Doctor, a Lawyer, a Referee for a few

A Mechanic, a Bouncer, a Psychologist too


From a baby not breathing, to a bat in the house

To counseling those who fight with their spouse

I’m called on to help with a car that won’t run

And to find the bad guy, a man with a gun


All types of diplomas, all kinds of degrees

Are needed by others who do jobs like these

There are no fancy papers in frames on my wall

But I’m always there when you need me and call


Ready to answer any call that might come

All types of hats though I wear just but one

For the hat that I wear is not fancy or bold

It is simple, dark blue with a shield of gold


Poem Called: The hat that I wear

Newprofile_1sm_max50

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I'm not sure these belong in this thread because I'm a supporter not an LEO.  I'll post them here and if they don't belong, I'll remove them.


              Angels Among Us


As each day passes on this winding road

Angels walk among us with a heavy load.


They never ask you remember their names

They don't expect fortune or fame.


They deserve but seldom get in return

The respect that they so silently earn.


Too often we'll hear the familiar call

'All gave some, some gave all.'


Tragedy has to befall their ranks

Before we remember to give them our thanks.


We pray for those taken, so suddenly gone,

And forget about those who carry on.


We forget that they grieve the loss of a brother

They do their jobs, pray there won't be another.


Blood-stained and spattered, it still holds strong,

That thin blue line that they travel along.


A friendly smile, a nod, a wave,

Seldom seen by these men so brave.


Anniversaries and birthdays are often missed,

With those they left with a hug and a kiss.


They knock on that door; they answer that call.

Will this be the last one?  Will this one be all?


Did you have a chance to say 'thank you' today?

Will your next chance be only at the angel's grave?


They give of themselves to us every day.

Why shouldn't we go out of our way?


Tell them you thank them.  Tell them today.

Don't turn your head, look the other way.


They stand to protect us, home and afield

They wear a gun and they wear a shield.


There are angels among us.  To you I say,

"God bless you, sir.  And have a safe day."


By: Peggy Parker

April 25, 2009

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Police Officer Thank You

By: Peggy Parker - May 11, 2009 (Administrator)

~A Tribute To Those Who Wear The Shield~


The uniform's as varied

As the badges on their chests.

They do their job, they give it all,

They give to it their best.


They know there is no fortune.

They know there'll be no fame.

They know you may dislike them.

But they do it just the same.


Underneath those badges

Their hearts beat all as one.

They don't give up because they know

Then evil would have won.


Courage is engraved there

Upon each brave one's chest.

Valor, honor, dignity

Are words that join the rest.


The words are not for us to see

Inscribed there just the same.

And when one fails to pass the test

Somehow they all get blamed.


The hearts beneath those badges

Aren't made of hardened steel.

Did you think a badge was armor?

Did you think they couldn't feel?


They stand so tall in front of us

These valiant souls so few.

I thank them now for all they do.

I thank them now, won't you?

 

Hellboy_max50

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I wonder why, I do this job and daily risk it all

I’ve got but a split second to make the fateful call

I wonder why, he had the knife and charged with hollow eyes

I stopped that threat, he‘s dead now, but it’s me who slowly dies


I wonder why, they say the things about me like they do

With no idea who I am or what I’ve just been through

I wonder why, they fill the news with people hating me

They never ask me what went on or what just did I see


I wonder why, when it’s the cop who ends up dead

That TV preacher never shows, no not a word is said

I wonder what they’d think, if they spent time in my shoes

It’s easy to criticize when it’s not their life to lose


I wonder if they ever thought, they might someday be

The victim of a crime, injured, dying, crying out for me

I wonder why, I ‘d risk my life to be right at their side

I guess because, I am a cop… sometimes I wonder why.


Poem Called: I wonder Why?

Hellboy_max50

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Did you know a Police Officer died last night?

Just another Cop who gave his life

Another story to fill the news

Another funeral with a sea of blue


We know that he did not want to leave

Now his brothers, sisters & family grieve

They'll lay to rest their brother with tears

A pain that will last for the rest of their years


And others will come to honor this Cop

Who in spite of the risks, would never stop

“To Serve & Protect” were just not words written as art

It was part of his soul, his body, his heart


The real pain that’s felt by those left behind

Comes from the fact many people don’t mind

That this hero was killed fighting for us

“He’s just a cop, it’s his job, why all the fuss?”


He was there when you needed, there when you called

Never asked you for praise or to thank him at all

So he’s just a cop, risking his life

Catches a bullet or gets stuck with a knife


To those who say that it’s just a cop’s life

Did you ever stop to think, did he have a wife?

Or maybe a boy and a little girl too

Waiting for Dad who promised a trip to the Zoo


They watched out the door, with smiles and cheer

Waiting for daddy who soon should be there

But instead of his smile, come three somber cops

As they walk towards the house time suddenly stops


He won’t be coming home to them anymore

Still they stand and stare out the front door

Saying My Dad was a cop…but why did he have to die?

He was kind, he was funny, just a really nice guy


No it wasn’t just a cop who was killed last night

A part of us all died when they shut down his light

When it happens again, we all know that it will

Take a second to think, for a moment be still


If not for that cop, where would we be

Afraid of our shadow, not one of us free

Was the guy who just died special or not?

Yeah he sure was, …Just a Husband, a Father, a Hero, a COP


Poem Called: Just a Cop

Hellboy_max50

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I was out for a drive on a warm summer night

When I saw in the mirror a flashing red light

Oh God help me…it's a cop with nothing better to do

He's just looking to give out a ticket or two.


This no good cop must need his quota today

If he pulls me over, there'll be hell to pay

Come on just stop me, I'll really show you

If he tries to hassle me, I'll threaten to sue!


He comes up behind me at a crazy mans pace

But instead of stopping… right by me he raced

He was going so fast I thought… I'm going to make a complaint

But when I found out why, I simply started to faint


See he wasn't racing around risking his life just for fun

He was headed to my house… my wife called 911

She called cause my boy, my two year old could not breath

If the cop got there any later… I wouldn't have my little Steve


I thanked him; I praised him, I could not hold back

My tears and my Thank-Yous, were my form of attack

But he just shook my hand and said, it's ok… he's just fine

I'm just glad I was able to get here in time


Well my two-year old, he now just turned five

He is happy go lucky and very much alive

Every night when I kiss him he says "goodnight Pop!"

I tell him I love him… and I Thank God for that Cop.


Poem Called: Nothing Better.

Hellboy_max50

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The policeman stood and faced his God,

Which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining.

Just as brightly as his brass.


"Step forward now, policeman.

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To My church have you been true?"


The policeman squared his shoulders and said,

"No, Lord, I guess I ain't,

Because those of us who carry badges

can't always be a saint.


I've had to work most Sundays,

and at times my talk was rough,

and sometimes I've been violent,

Because the streets are awfully tough.


But I never took a penny,

That wasn't mine to keep....

Though I worked a lot of overtime

When the bills got just too steep.


And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear.

And sometimes, God forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.


I know I don't deserve a place

Among the people here.

They never wanted me around

Except to calm their fear.


If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand.

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't.....I'll understand.


There was silence all around the throne

Where the saints had often trod.

As the policeman waited quietly,

For the judgement of his God.


"Step forward now, policeman,

You've borne your burdens well.

Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets,

You've done your time in hell."


Poem Called: The Final Inpection (Leo Style).

Nunst0006_max50

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This is from Mike's book "wagoncop".


 


I Held a Life


I held a life in my two hands


as it slipped from lifes uncertain bands


A young man, eighteen I believe


What a lifes tale he might weave


If only the medics would soon arrive


It's beyond my scope to keep him alive


But the scene is not secure


So to rush in they must demure


The black skin turns gray


Surely death is moments away


The hard eyes open and soften


At time of death this happens often


He looks somewhere above, far above


Then back to me and says "tell mamma it's her I love


The features relax, the dark eyes dim


Like he knows it's the end of him


He accepts his fate, but not alone, for this wagoncop has learned death tends


To make mortal enemies into friends


Mike "wagoncop" Marcello about 1965 


I'm just a person trapped inside a woman's body. ~Elaine Boosler

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These are all so awesome and from the heart. Truly great, each one in its own way.

Hellboy_max50

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When God Made Peace Officers


When the Lord was creating peace officers, he was into His sixth day of overtime. An angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of idling around on this one."


And the Lord said, "Have you read the specs on this order? A peace officer has to be able to run five miles through alleys in the dark, scale walls, enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch, and not wrinkle his uniform. He has to be able to sit in an undercover car all day at a stakeout, cover a homicide scene that night, canvas the neighborhood for witnesses and testify in court the next day. He has to be in top physical condition at all times, running on black coffee and half-eaten meals. And he has to have six pairs of hands."


The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands....no way!"


"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord. "It's the three pairs of eyes the officer has to have."


"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.


The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through a bulge in a pocket before he asks, "May I see what's in there, Sir?" (When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job) Another pair here in the side of his head for his partner's safety. And another pair of eyes here in front that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say, "You'll be alright, Ma'am....when he knows it isn't so."


"Lord, " said the angel, touching his sleeve. Rest and work on this tomorrow."


"I can't", said the Lord, "I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound drunk into a patrol car without incident and feed a family of five on a civil service paycheck."


The angel circled the model of the peace officer very slowly. "Can it think?" she asked.


"You bet", said the Lord. "It can tell you the elements of a hundred crimes, recite Miranda warnings in its sleep, detain, investigate, search, and arrest a gang member on the street in less time than it takes five learned judges to debate the legality of the stop...and it still keeps its sense of humor. This officer also has phenomenal personal control. He can deal with crime scenes painted in hell, coax a confession from a child abuser, comfort a murder victim's family, and then read in the daily newspaper how law enforcement isn't sensitive to the rights of criminal suspects."


Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the peace officer. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model."


"That's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear."


"What's a tear for?" asked the angel.


"It's for bottled up emotions, for fallen comrades, for commitment to that funny piece of cloth called the American flag for justice."


"You're a genius," said the angel.


The Lord looked somber, "I didn't put it there," He said, "It comes with the job."


Called: Tears Of a Cop ( God's Version)

Hellboy_max50

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When anything happens, you string up this “tape.”

There’s your side and my side, and there is no “gate.”


If I can’t get through while you work, that’s OK.

But when you’re not working, don’t send me away.


When it’s all over, your tape won’t come down.

“Do Not Cross” is your message. The tape, it surrounds.


You’re cordoned off, trapped with your private grief.

I’m caught up in your pain, but can’t offer relief.


You’re tied to your silence. That is the crime.

I could help break the code, if you’d give me the time.


* * *


Allow me the freedom (it’s your badge, your call)

To help when you need it. It’s good for us all.


If I don’t understand everything that you mean,

I can still lend an ear, while you sort out the scene.


* * *


With your permission, I’ll cut through the tape.

Give me the chance, so we both can escape.


Don’t fear that I’ll see that you’re not made of stone.

I already know, so don’t go it alone.


Poem Called: The Tape

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I am honored to be among the best of the best in poetry. JT YOU SIR are phenomianl! I could read your poetry for hours. Pleae publish a book and let us all share in this vast well of the magic of words and spells which arouses one's soul and lifts us to new hights. Thank you and you sir are truly blessed.

Hellboy_max50

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I'm in a race all by myself,

Nobody understands.

I look to family to provide some help,

But it seems to be a demand.


I need to feel as if I'm worthy,

To really be called a man.

I can not work, I'm often moody.

No one understands.


I do not like the way I am,

It makes me very sad.

The way my mind works sometimes,

Makes me very mad.


I can't express the way I feel,

I just want to be a part.

But the battle that wages inside my mind,

Will never let me start.


I have such love inside of my heart,

I can't show the way I feel.

If they could see past scars of a thousand battles,

They would know my love is real.


To be the way I used to be,

Would often seem so great.

But the visions I deal with every day,

Tell me it's much too late.


To lie in bed and wonder,

At every little sound.

When's the bad guy coming,

My house, he's finally found.


I know deep down there's no one there,

I know I have to stop.

Is this the price I'd pay for the job,

When I chose to be a cop.


Why can't I lie my head down?

Why can't I rest and sleep,

Without the fear of what I've seen,

Coming forth to reap.


How do I tell my little son,

I'm afraid of dark and night,.

While telling him not to be afraid,

Of anything in his sight.


To me a hug is golden,

A kiss is like a prize.

God, help me overcome this thing,

And heal my tortured mind.



Poem Called:  The Race

Hellboy_max50

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The past several months have been quite a slow go

Like watching from afar a mystifying show

The nights and days have become just a blur

A hellish nightmare from which one can’t stir


Then without any knowledge of how it could be

The blur goes away and we start to clearly see

A strength from within holds us up for the fight

With a warm inner peace, our soul becomes light


When A Police Officer dies, there are some guaranteed things

Most surely of which is that their badge turns into wings

Wings of an Angel that they will now be

Not confined by the body, their souls to fly free


If they could talk to us now, they would likely just say

Remember me often at least once a day

When you feel warmth surround you, as you lay down at night

Know that it’s me, saying I’m ok… it’s alright


They may be gone from our sight, but not from our heart

Making ready for us, when it’s our time to part

Together again… we will all someday be

Giving strength to others, because now… we fly free.


Poem Called: Guaranteed Things

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Wonderful poem my dear friend. God is surely blessing you with a talent I have not seen in so long.  Verse seems to roll off your mind and the priniting press goes to it. WOW! Keep on my dear friend. So many need to know that you are bringing a genuine awarenss to our "Men In Blue." through the gift of poetry.

Hellboy_max50

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It's time to tread where others fear

Bulletproof and keen.

A new day begins with roll call

of things already seen.


Better keep your eye on the ball

because ahead is all the action

Behind you is the dread of death

You've seen it all before.


Lights and siren sound the alarm

Does anybody see you?


Alone, afraid, determined


Your job has been directed,

to see that our society

is served and well protected.


And when your done

the lives you saved,

the perpetrator captured.


Another night

you realize

with visions unattractive.


The nightmare's there

but you don't scare

the Badge

it will protect you

Your weapon loaded in your sight.


It will not be a restless night.


The comrade mantra

one for all and all for one

reverberated within.


And then it starts to hit you

like wind within a storm

the plan you see can only be

escape, release, and shelter.


The darkened days

unending nights

reliving all the horror.


And who will say they understand

...they've walked the shoes

you stand in?


And so you find in solitude

the answer to the question.


In death you'll march

with eyes so bright

your thoughts become

untangled.


Or so you'll think

with that consent

solution to the problem.


And we will sit and stare

...With disbelief

that never will escape us.


You're on your own

...we're here alone.


But those you leave behind

will never be the same

We'll walk alone among the stone

that bears your name

.....unjustly.


We need to see

collectively

to realize that it should not be.

To bury those

unwillingly.


We must begin each day

a new enlightened way


Bravely Protect and Serve those

who Serve and Protect us all.


Poem Called: A Tribute to a Fallen Hero

Hellboy_max50

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I just came upon you yesterday;

Although you were not my friend.

I am saddened by the many troubles;

That brought you to this end.


On the ground I found a body so still and cold;

Now void of all signs of your life.

Wondering if you left children behind;

Oh, how will we ever tell your wife?


So beautiful was your resting place;

One with nature, earth and air.

Perhaps you were reflecting on your problems;

Realizing they were too much to bear.


Memories flooded me as I seen your face;

For once I had a brother just like you.

This world was not meant for him either;

For he ended his young life, too.


I pray to God to save your soul;

Take you far from the gates of hell.

My God doesn't punish the sick or lame;

Believe me, I know him well.


Some will say you were a man of little courage;

That you took the easy way out.

If given the same set as your trials;

We all might consider the same route.


As the thunder and wind did harshly roar;

The storm left the sky so dark.

The rain washed away your red blood;

But in my life you left a blue mark.


Dear man may you now have peace;

And walk on streets of purest gold.

Hopefully you have reached heaven;

A vision - so beautiful I am told.


Poem Called: A Search for Peace

Hellboy_max50

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Walk with him tonight

Dear Lord

Along each darkened sreet

Walk with him tonight

Dear lord

Along his lonely beat

Keep him happy through the night

And please make sure he's warm

And guide him to a sheltering door

In case there comes a time a storm

And let him know

Though he's not here

My prayers are free from fright

Because, Dear Lord ,

I, know so well

You're on his beat tonight


The Policeman's Prayer

Hellboy_max50

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Rated +1 | Posted over 5 years ago

 

The young man came forward, his face drawn and sad

And he held out his hand, displaying his badge.

The old chief rocked slowly and put his hands in his lap

And shook his head gently, and said, "What is this crap?"


The young cop sniffed, and from his eye wiped a tear,

"I've given you my best for almost one year.

But I make no difference, as I once thought I could,

There is far more evil out there than is good."


The old chief stared up into the young rookie's eyes

And tried to recall something clever and wise.

"Tell me" he said, to the once eager young cop.

"How many DUI's in a year have you popped?"


"Forty-two," the rookie replied with great pride.

"And had you not, how many more might have died?

It's not how many are arrested, now, is it?

It's how many less accident scenes you must visit."


The kid hung his head, and flexed his strong hands,

"But, sir," he said, softly," You don't understand.

"We're greatly outnumbered, the drugs are the worst,

The schools are like hell and the streets , they are cursed."


"Dealers breed like damn roaches. On the kids, they all prey,

And even when arrested, they are out the next day."

The old chief set his jaw, and tapped a red finger,

And on the young cop, his eyes sadly lingered.


"If one little kid cannot get connected,

If one pregnant junkie finds the strength to reject it,

If one lousy addict decides he can beat it,

If one crack-head in a million says I just don't need it...


Then you...have removed his greatest temptation,

If only for a night, it might be be his salvation,

And wars are not won by those who say: Screw it.

They are won by the men who decide they can do it.


The rookie pulled up an old wooden chair

And running a hand through his shock of brown hair,

"But what about the children and poor battered wives?

Why can't we stop it and fix all those lives?"


"Each time you set foot in that same, run-down house

Each time you go back to bust that same dirty louse,

For the children and wife, the violence has ceased,

If for only a few hours, you offer them peace."


"You cannot dictate their sad chosen path,

You cannot stop his booze-laden wrath,

You can't pack their belongings and cart them away

But you can prevent murder for just one more day."


"But sir," he said, his heart heavy like lead,

"I know there are dirtbags who wish I were dead,

But the public, the press, the politicians fling mud,

And who says thank you when we shed some blood?"


The chief pursed his lips, his answer unknown

For he knew it was this pain that hurt to the bone,

"There's no easy answers for the ache that you feel,

But appreciation and praise just ain't part of the deal."


"The respect, gratitude and admiration, too

Will not come from people who can't do what we do.

You ask for a sense of honor and pride,

My advice, my son, is to look deep down inside."


The young cop stared down at the badge in his hand

And he knew he would not resign as he planned,

For he saw the badge now as not just something he does,

It was not just a symbol...It's what he was.


Poem Called: Not Just A Symbol

Hellboy_max50

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Blood Upon The Shield


Confrontation in an alley. The Centurion does not yield.


But this time the good guy loses;


there is blood upon the shield.


And the mournful sounds of bagpipes


play out across the land,


drowned out by the sobs of a lonely young wife


and a child too young to understand.


While the killer pleads his case in court,


the thin blue line is one man short.


And we're one step closer to society's fall;


another cop's name is engraved on the wall.


Another state funeral, with an army in blue,


and we know it could've been me and it could've been you.


We all look ahead to what the future has in store,


front line troopers in a country that's at war.


At war with itself and at war with its cops and we're


out there every day 'cause the battle never stops.


It's not the way it is on TV shows or like


we learned in school; no cool music in the background,


no playing by the "rules";


We're disillusioned warriors,


but for right we'll always strive.


We just pray that at the end of our stress-filled day


we'll get back home alive.


You stand out on the corner


ignoring the insults and the stares,


close to the point of believing that no one really cares,


when a six year-old boy walks over after watching


you for awhile, reaching out to shake your hand,


on his face a friendly smile.


To him you are a hero,


a protector of our land, and he wants


to learn about you,


as a cop and as a man.


And when he asks you why your badge is covered


by a black elastic band,


tell him about our Brother


A cop who made a stand.


Poem Called: Blood Upon the Shield

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