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Monday, September 10, 2012

A Police's life is no easy, one,
There's little glamour, and much less fun,
And the uniform, that he wears so well,
Can sometimes be, the curse of hell.
Each day that he works, his life is at stake,
The risk is high, and the pay's not great.
He must be a lawyer, and a diplomat,
He must know first aid, and replace a flat.
He must guard little children, to cross the street,
And check for trouble, along his beat.
He must stand long hours, in the burning sun,
To keep traffic moving, and on the run.
He's there in the rain, the sleet and the snow,
To guard you from danger, wherever you go.
He must know how to handle, a crowd or a mob,
And calm down a person, whose home has been robbed.
He must know ev'ry bank, ev'ry store, miles around,
And guide a lost stranger, who comes to his town.
He must know when to draw, and fire with his gun,
A decision that's often a delicate one.
He must harbor no feelings, for color or race,
And have great restraint, at the taunts he must face.
He must wear his badge, with honor and pride,
And be brave when the odds, are not on his side.
It wouldn't be safe to walk any street,
Except for that brave fearless man on the beat,
We all should appreciate more ev'ry day,
The policeman's our friend, in so many ways.

The family of a policeman does not have an easy task. Many marriages do not last but ours did and continues today. I appreciate those spouses an children that have to wait for that knock at their door. Above all let he/she know that he/she is Loved.
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