Drunken Cop
By randy-johnson
- 210 reads
I turned to the bottle because I was a Cop.
I was a good Policeman but it had to stop.
I couldn't stand the crime and violence anymore.
It got to be something that I could not ignore.
A six year old kid was killed in the cross fire when a gang decided to attack.
I had to explain to his parents that their son got a big hole blown in his back.
I saw so many deaths that it became hard to even keep my meals down.
I could no longer tolerate the violence in this crime infested town.
I couldn't continue being a Cop, it was something I couldn't take.
It bothered me so much that every day my hands would shake.
My career as a Police Officer came to an end.
And sadly, the bottle became my best friend.
As I sit alone in this bar, the bartender is pouring me drinks.
Please don't be a Police Officer in this town, it really stinks.
(This is a fictional poem)
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