The policeman stood
and faced 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'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 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'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,
I 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 saints had often trod,
As the policeman waited quietly,
for the judgement of God.
"Step forward now, policeman.
You've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets,
you've already seen your share
of Hell."
~Author Unknown~ |