Something a little different today. There’s no particular reason I reproduce this poem at this time other than I like it & there isn’t a bad time to think about those who have gone before us.
Not written by me (if you know who the author was, please let me know).
The Final Inspection
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 foreword 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 aint,
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’ve been violent,
Because the streets are awfully 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,
Thought at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I’ve 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 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 policeman waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
“Step foreword now, policeman,
You’ve borne your burdens well
Come walk a beat on Heaven’s streets,
You’ve done your time in hell.”