Since 1776, the years have come and passed.
Things have constantly changed, and nothing seems to last.
The uniforms might change, from gray to brown to blue:
We’ve patrolled by horse, boat, car, and worn out many a shoe.
Throughout all this time, one common thread binds us all:
We’ve all worked the beat. We’ve all answered the call.
From bar fights to domestics, homicides to open doors,
We’ve been here to handle all, through peacetime and world wars.
We’ve worked first shift, second, but most memorable, third.
It starts with the scream of the siren, but ends with the song of a bird.
We have hoped for the best, but usually see people at the worst,
but through it all...
We still work the beat. We still answer the call.
We’ve been there to listen to the victim’s cries;
See their blood, their tears; then listen to their assailant’s lies.
A career is a long time to see the things that we do,
And have so few people understand what it’s like to wear blue.
Understood or not, come sunshine or snowfall,
We still work the beat. We still answer the call.
We still work the beat, we still answer the call.
Poem by Dan Marcou, written for every cop who has worked the beat and who has answered the call, from The Calling. The Making of a Veteran Cop.
