It is not just another profession
On your soul this job leaves an impression
The sights your eyes are forced to see
Can make one for their sanity plea

You take an oath to enforce the laws
Then in the system you discover the flaws
You risk your life each day you go to work
Chasing and arresting some stupid jerk

Then there are those moments when you think you understand
Why you chose to do this job and to take a stand
The look on a mother's face when you find her missing child
Or when an air tight case against a thug you have compiled

Some of the things you encounter you can never forget
The thought of them bring on a cold sweat
A child's lifeless body lying on the road
People trapped in a vehicle about to explode

Fresh blood steaming on a cold winter night
From a young man stabbed to death in a fight
A mother's screams of horror upon being told of her child's death
The strong smell of alcohol on a drunk driver's breath

What brings a person back to this job each day
One thing for sure it is rarely the pay
It has to be a calling of sort
Because it sure has the makings of a life cut short

Whatever the reason that we heed the call
It's a job that requires giving your all
It takes support from people like you
On those very tough days to get us through

So when you see an officer in blue, brown or grey
Take a moment and to GOD do pray
Pray for our families, their support is a must
Pray for our safety, IN GOD WE DO TRUST

© Kent Fletcher, July 10, 2007