I see lots of things

I see things.

I’ve seen children of means doing demeaning things.
And sons of poverty who spread their wings.

I’ve seen grown men beg for life,
And children throw it away to avoid a little strife.

I’ve seen grandiose homes with filth and grime,
And homeless camps that pristinely shine.

I have seen some men tell the truth.
I’ve seen more lie despite the proof.

I’ve seen sorrow and courage,
Calm and rage.

I’ve seen precious little contentment and plenty of resentment.

I’ve heard women scream as I stand at their door,
Because I’ve come to tell them they aren’t mothers anymore.

I’ve seen bad men get their due,
And self righteous ones who have no clue.

I’ve seen lots of things as a police man.
Some things others never can.


Thoughts on The Habit of Anger

I am weary of the fury which I feel from day to day.
My eyes grow bleary and I merely can not stand to feel this way.

I say verily that I barely contain the rage which bides within.
I act ferally when once I merrily would have been a perfect gentleman.

Some days I cry and wonder why, it is that I no longer act a friend,
But then I sigh, for tis a lie, that my will I can not bend.

I must take control of the role my patience plays within me.
Or t’will be a tole and my soul will have to pay the fee.

So I’ll be kind and work to find a new way to vent anxiety.
I am resigned, myself to bind, for gentility to gain notoriety.