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tribute to the Officers who died.


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The officer stood and faced his Maker,

which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining,

Just as brightly as his brass.

 

"Step forward now, officer

how shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To your Maker, have you been true?"

 

The officer, with squared shoulders, said

"No sir, 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 so tough.

 

But I never took a penny,

that wasn't mine to keep.

Though I worked a lot of overtime

when the bills just got too steep.

 

And I never passed by a cry for help

though sometimes I shook with fear,

and sometimes, please forgive me,

I've wept an unmanly tear.

 

I know I don't deserve a place

among the people here.

They never wanted me around

except to calm their fears.

 

But if you have a place for me here,

well...it need not be too grand.

I never expected or had too much

so if you don't...I'll understand."

 

There was silence all around the room

where the saints respectfully stood.

As the officer waited quietly,

for the judgment...bad or good.

 

"Step forward now officer,

you've borne your burdens well.

Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets;

you've done your time in Hell."

 

Unknown Author

 

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