The Final Inspection
I do not know who authored this.
The policeman stood and faced his God, which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, officer. How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek? To my Church have you been true?"
The officer squared his shoulders and said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
'Cause those of us who carry badges can't always be a saint.
But I never took a penny that wasn't mine to keep ...
Though I worked a lot of overtime when the bills just got too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help, though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me, I wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place among the people here.
They never wanted me around except to calm their fear.
If you've a place for me here, Lord, it needn't be so grand.
I've never expected or had too much. But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne where the saints had often trod.
As the officer waited quietly for the answer of his God.
"Step forward now, Officer, you've borne your burdens well.
Come ride a beat on Heaven's streets. You've done your time in Hell."
Back to Mind Scrap *F*.
