These are a few poems about police I think people should remember next time they want to gripe about one. To my brothers and sisters in blue, here is to you
Sorry for the long read folks, just trying to get people's attention that not all cops are bad!!
"Yes Me the Lousy Cop"
Well Mr. Citizen, I guess you have me figured out. I seem to fit neatly into the category you place me in. I'm stereotyped, characterized, standardized, classified, grouped, and always typical. I'm the "lousy cop." Unfortunately, the reverse isn't true. I can never figure you out.
From birth you teach your children that I am the bogeyman, and then you're shocked when they identify me with my traditional enemy, the criminal. You accuse me of coddling juveniles, until I catch your kid doing something. You may take an hour for lunch, and have several coffee breaks each day, but point me out as a loafer if you see me having just one cup.
You pride yourself on your polished manners, but think nothing of interrupting my meals at noon with your troubles. You raise hell about the guy who cuts you off in traffic, but let me catch you doing the same thing and I'm picking on you. You know all the traffic laws, but never got a single ticket you deserved. You shout "foul" if you observe me driving fast enroute to an emergency call, but literally raise hell if I take more than ten seconds responding to your call!!!
You call it "part of the job" if someone strikes me, but it's "police brutality" if I strike back. You wouldn't think of telling your dentist how to pull a badly decayed tooth, or your doctor how to take out your appendix, but you are always willing to give me a few pointers on law enforcement. You talk to me in a manner and use language that would assure a bloody nose from anyone else, but you expect me to stand and take it without batting an eye.
You cry, "Something has to be done about all the crime!" but you can't be bothered with getting involved.
You've got no use for me at all, but, of course, it's OK if I change a tire for your wife, or deliver your baby in the back seat of my patrol car on the way to the hospital, or save your son's life with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or work many hours over-time to find your lost daughter.
So Mr. Citizen, you stand there on your soapbox and rant and rave about the way I do my job, calling me every name in the book, but never stop a minute to think that your property, your family, or maybe your life might depend on one thing, ME, or one if my buddies.
"YES ME THE LOUSY COP"
"The Final Inspection"
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 judgment 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."
"I am the Officer"
I have been where you fear to be,
I have seen what you fear to see,
I have done what you fear to do -
All these things I have done for you.
I am the person 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 Officer in Blue,"
But I'm just a person, just like you.
And through the years I've come to see,
That I am not always what you ask of me;
So, take this badge ... take this gun ...
Will you take it ... will anyone?
And when you watch a person die
And hear a battered baby cry,
Then do you think that you can be
All these things you ask of me?
A POLICE OFFICER'S PRAYER
Lord I ask for courage
Courage to face and
Conquer my own fears...
Courage to take me
Where others will not go...
I ask for strength
Strength of body to protect others
And strength of spirit to lead others...
I ask for dedication
Dedication to my job, to do it well
Dedication to my community
To keep it safe...
Give me Lord, concern
For others who trust me
And compassion for those who need me...
And please Lord
Through it all
Be at my side...
Police Officer's Prayer to St. Michael
Saint Michael, heaven's glorious commissioner of police,
who once so neatly and successfully cleared God's premises
of all its undesirables, look with kindly and professional
eyes on your earthly force.
Give us cool heads, stout hearts, and uncanny flair for
investigation and wise judgement.
Make us the terror of burglars, the friend of children and
law-abiding citizens, kind to strangers, polite to bores,
strict with law-breakers and impervious to temptations.
You know, Saint Michael, from your own experiences
with the devil that the police officer's lot on earth is not
always a happy one; but your sense of duty that so
pleased God, your hard knocks that so surprised the
devil, and your angelic self-control give us inspiration.
And when we lay down our night sticks, enroll us in your
heavenly force, where we will be as proud to guard the
throne of God as we have been to guard the city of all
the people. Amen.
I'm all dressed again to face a new day
I walk down the hall and stop on the way
I take one last look and straighten my tie
Inspecting myself as I'm passing by
Then at my front door I stop to prepare
With these words to God as I'm kneeling there
"Dear God, send your strength and wisdom my way
Protect me so I will live through this day
Please help me to not be so full of pride
I don't want to lose what I feel inside
Though I wear a badge and carry a gun
I'm really just here to help everyone
It's nice to see smiles on faces each day
But God, when I'm near the smiles go away
I want them to know when I drive around
I'm just only here protecting their ground
I like to have fun and sometimes I cry
I even get lonely and I don't know why
If given the chance I think they would see
There isn't a difference between them and me
I'll never abuse nor will I condemn
This job was MY CHOICE I do it for them
It's trust and respect that makes me succeed
But it MUST be earned before it's received
When I took that OATH my witness was you
Enforcing our laws as I promised to
So just for today please let people see
A person no different when they look at me
I give you my hand for guidance out there
As I pray to you "A POLICEMAN'S PRAYER"
By:
Freda H. Babinski
"A Policeman was killed last night"
A policeman was killed last night.
He died while protecting your rights.
His creed was to protect and serve.
This fate he didn't deserve.
A mom and dad have lost a son.
So many other jobs he could've done.
His wife and kids are left alone.
Their daddy won't be coming home.
His fellow officers are hurt so deep.
For a fallen brother they weep.
The morning paper will print a story.
About a policeman who died in glory.
The flags will fly at half mast.
Politicians and citizens will seem sad.
The funeral is tomorrow at noon.
It will all be over very soon.
By next week they will have forgot.
That a policeman was killed last night.
Jim Cole
Athens, Georgia
"Always On the Job"
Just another man is what he had started out to be,
Then he took an oath to serve and protect you and me.
I wonder sometimes if they get more than they bargained for,
When the way for them is so narrow with so many closed doors.
How could they let a murderer back out on the street,
When he promised the family this arrest would keep.
All the times he pulled someone over for driving too fast,
Knowing that his job could easily make this day his last.
Watching a child cry as their last breath they take,
When he knows people will say it was his mistake.
Someone needs extra security overnight,
He would hate to think he wasn’t in sight.
So even after pulling a ten hour day,
He’s once again, gladly on his way.
Over night lookout jobs are not much fun,
But once again he sees the rising of the sun.
He could have chosen to go home to family and friends,
But when he said to serve and protect, he said until the end.
"Police Sacrifice"
While you sleep, we're there.
When you're sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, or celebrating Christmas, we're there.
When its raining and cold, and you're glad to be in your home with your family, we're out there.
When it's your children's birthday, we're out there.
When it's our children's birthday, we're still out there.
You put on a suit and dress to go to work, we strap on a ballistic vest and a gun.
There's little room for error in your job, in ours there is none.
An error by you means a demotion, an error by us means a funeral.
When you tell your families "see you tonight" as you leave for work, you mean it. When we tell our family that, we pray we will.
At your job you strive to succeed, at our job we strive to survive.
In your job, one bad person is the talk of the office, in our job, one bad officer makes the news and suddenly were all bad.
In these headlines it's not what good we've done, but how much better it could have been done.
When you're scared you call us, when we're scared, we must carry on.
While you're eating a home cooked meal, we're having another hamburger.
While you're asleep with your spouse, ours sleep alone.
So the next time you're out with your family or friends, and you see a patrol car go by, remember the incredible sacrifice made by these officers every day.
Inside that car is a person that sacrifices his/her life, both professionally and personally Every day.
How I sometimes wonder, how brave he must be,
He lays his life on the line to protect you and me.
I wish sometimes I could just understand,
Why people don’t reach out more, or lend a hand.
I could never imagine to face what he does everyday,
A child abused and crying to not be taken away.
A drug dealer on the streets again,
Knowing he sold drugs to his friend.
A drunk hits the side of another car while running a light,
The drunk was fine, but that family saw their last night.
There’s a shoot out, his partner and friend is down, after many years,
He just says, “You’ll be OK!” Knowing he sees the truth in his tears.
Then his day finally comes to an end,
And he goes home to family and friends.
How was your day, they always want to know,
He just always smiles, and says same ole, same ole.
He knows they really care and want to know,
But, it’s not a place many people could go.
He knows the job has to be done,
He fights the fight that must be won.
He takes pride in what he chose to do,
To serve and protect me and you.
So, next time you get mad or feel he earns his pay,
Ask yourself, “Could I be as brave as him for a day?”
11 September 2001
A cop died today, and some still call him Pig.
He died trying to help others escape from a stricken building, yet some still call him Pig.
He did his job, giving the ultimate sacrifice, and for what? Money? Respect? Power? Prestige?
No, he did it because he was needed, and some still call him Pig.
All over this great Country, Police Officers are called upon to perform duties no one else wants to do.
They enforce traffic laws, only to pick up the bodies of those who violate them.
They are called upon to be family counselors, and are cursed and sometimes injured by those who called them for help.
They see battered and abused children, and are told not to let it bother them.
They see the worst our society has to offer, and are asked to go home to a normal life after their shift.
A cop died today, and 78 of his brother officers died with him, yet some still call him Pig.
Soon, in another city, in another state, others will don the uniform and badge for the first time.
They will go forward with high expectations to Serve and Protect.
They will be called upon to do what every other cop has done before them, yet some will call them pigs.
A cop died today, and a small piece of America died with him, yet some still call him Pig.
This is one of my personal favorites!!
When God Made Police Officers
When the Lord was creating Police Officers, He was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said,
"You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the requirements on this
order? A Police 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 their uniform."
"They have to be able to sit in an undercover car all day on a stakeout, cover a homicide scene that night, canvass the neighborhood for witnesses, and testify in court the next day."
"They have to be in top physical condition at all times,
running on black coffee and half-eaten meals, and they have 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 an 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 they ask, 'May I see what's in there, sir?'"
(when they already know and wish they'd taken that accounting job) "Another pair here in the side of their head for their partner's safety, and another pair of eyes here in front so they can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say, 'You'll be alright, ma'am,' when they know 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 Police 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 still it keeps its sense of humor. This officer also has phenomenal personal control. They 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 paper 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 Police 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 the 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