"The Badge"
He starts his
shift each day
To respond to calls unknown.
He drives a marked patrol car.
A police officer he is known.
He's paid by the
citizens' taxes
To make it safe on the streets.
But he usually has a second job
'Cause a waitress has his salary beat.
Now he doesn't
know a holiday
'Cause he works all year round.
And when Thanksgiving and Christmas finally arrive
At his home he cannot be found.
He's cursed and
assaulted often,
The one whose blood runs blue.
He seldom ever gets a thanks,
To some he's just a fool.
His friends are
always other cops
'Cause people just don't understand
That underneath his badge and gun,
He's just another man.
He knows there
might not be a tomorrow
In this world of drugs and crime.
And he gets so mad at the court system
'Cause the crooks don't get any time.
And each day
when he leaves for work,
He prays to God above.
Please bring me home after my shift
So I can see the ones I love.
But tonight he
stops a speeding car,
He's alone down this ole' highway.
It's just a little traffic infraction.
He does it everyday.
Well,
he walks up to the driver's window,
And his badge is shining bright.
He asked the guy for a driver's license,
When a shot rang through the night.
Yes, the bullet
hit its mark,
Striking the officer in the chest.
But the Department's budget didn't buy
Each officer a bullet-proof vest.
So he lay on the
ground bleeding.
His blood wasn't blue-His blood was red.
And briefly he thought of his loved ones
'Cause in a moment the officer was dead.
In the news they
told the story
Of how this officer had died.
And some who listened cared less,
But those who loved him cried.
Well, they
buried him in uniform
With his badge pinned on his chest.
He even had his revolver,
He died doing his best.
Written By:
David L. Bell
Richland County Sheriff's Department
Columbia, South Carolina
Used with Special Permission
of the Author
Copyright © 1999 - All Rights Reserved
and may not be duplicated without
permission |
