The policeman stood and faced his God,

Which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining.

Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, policeman,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To my church have you been true?"

The policeman squared his shoulders and said,

"No, Lord, I guess I ain’t

Because those of us who carry badges

Can’t always be a saint.

I’ve had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was rough,

And sometimes I have been violent.

Because the streets are tough.

But I never took a penny’

That wasn’t mine to keep….

Though I worked a lot of overtime

When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear.

And sometimes, God forgive me,

I have wept an unmanly tear.

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 never expected or had to much,

But if you don’t… I’ll understand

There was silence around the throne

Where the saints had often trod.

As the policeman waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.

"Step forward now, policeman,

You’ve borne your burdens well.

Come walk a beat on Heaven’s streets,

You’ve done your time in hell"

Submitted by Major Carl Ray Brishaber

 March 7th  2003