National Poetry Writing Month - April 29, 2014

Today was an exciting day at work. I've been here six years and today was the first search warrant we've executed here during my tenure. It came about as a combo of good timing and the experience and skills of the officers involved in getting the warrant. It worked out for the best, as we were able to arrest the offender and get drugs and money for forfeiture, but these things have a way of going bad, fast. I'm glad we pulled this off without a hitch.

You Can Run, But You Can't Hide

With years of work under their belts

And experiences that most don't have

I came to the office early and geared up

We were actually going to hit it

This is the sort of thing that officers dream of doing

That tests are given and interviews conducted for

The chance to be one of the ones

Who smashes down the doors of evil

And imposes the will of good on those within

It's never the same twice when it goes down

Armor and shields are donned

Weapons checked and re-checked for function

The last place you need a gun to go down

Is when you're first through the door

Not knowing for sure is not the worst part of it

The waiting beforehand is 

Feet tapping, fingers drumming, mind racing

What will be waiting for us on the other side

There's always the chance that they will win

Bullets don't have names on them

They are addressed "To Whom It May Concern"

And that's our concern, and why we train

And practice

And go over floor plans again and again and again

Until we know the layout by heart

Until we know the doors and windows like the backs

Of our gloved hands

It went down ALMOST flawlessly

We were in and up and inside in mere minutes

But it only takes mere seconds for toilets to flush

And villains to disappear

Sooner rather that later he was caught

Close by and dark clothed he secreted himself next to an officer

In fact, under an officer

He would have gotten away with it

If it hadn't been for those meddling police

With years of crime under his belt

And experiences that I can never comprehend

He wouldn't talk with us; not impolite or uncooperative

But no, he wouldn't talk with us

With a click of the pen and a click of the camera

It was off to the county cages with him

To await his day in court

Leaving us with mountains of paperwork to complete

And the next door to contemplate