My fear being a cop (a poem)

In PoliceOne "First Person" essays, PoliceOne Members candidly share their own unique personal insights on issues confronting cops today, as well as opinions, observations, and advice on living life behind the thin blue line


Editor’s Note: This week’s PoliceOne First Person essay is from an anonymous PoliceOne Member. In PoliceOne "First Person" essays, our Members and Columnists candidly share their own unique view of the world. This is a platform from which individual officers can share their own personal insights on issues confronting cops today, as well as opinions, observations, and advice on living life behind the thin blue line. If you want to share your own perspective with other P1 Members, simply send us an email with your story.

By a PoliceOne Member

Graduate stands, family is proud
I love being a cop
Kids wave hi, as I patrol by
I love being a cop
Elderly adore, for holding the door
I love being a cop
Dope off the street, cleaning my beat
I love being a cop
Stopping her man, from laying a hand
I love being a cop
Hold on to a mom, her baby is gone
I love being a cop
Up on the stand, point out the man
I love being a cop
Never at home, wife feels alone
I love being a cop
Kids ask for dad, they act so sad
I love being a cop
One more stop, before I’m off the clock
I love being a cop
The stop went bad, my family is sad
I loved being a cop
Bagpipes play, class A’s today
They show love for a cop
Hand off the flag, to his wife, their dad
Why did he have to be a cop
I’m lowered down, six feet in the ground
That is my fear, of being a cop

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