Drunken Cop

I turned to the bottle because I'm 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.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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