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As I sat in my chair, the mirror I began to
stare, my skin, weathered and fair, white has
become, the color of my hair, as I looked
closer I saw an ugly glare, it was my soul I
could see, tender and rare. I drank more
whiskey for the mirror I couldn't bear, the man
I saw I felt no care. I arose from that seat,
and I thought about the beat, the radio calls
and horrors of bodies under the sheet. The
cases I had solved and killers I had to meet.
Flashes of police work before me so dark but
neat, the flames from my pistol of my shooting
and all its heat, I remembered like
yesterday...like yesterday's beat. I was a good
cop, a detective to be concrete. The memories
and flashbacks, they haunt me of my time on the
street.
My gun belt hangs and gathers dust; my badge
doesn't shine much more as it glistens with
rust. The award on my wall of my big drug
bust...also remains quiet and faded of dust. I
miss the job and I hate it too, I was gambling
with my life in a ghetto zoo, the blood in my
flesh always ran blue, to the department and
God I was dedicated and true. I slept with my
pistol like wood and glue, one eye open I
couldn't stop the paranoia like a raging flu. A
Cop I was, and served with honor and respect,
and the memories I see that often reflect, at 2
am at the coroners with another body to
dissect.
I was fit to be tied, this law enforcement
ride, cheaters that lied and young children
that died, suspects that would hide, and the
gun on my side, opened my heart and my eyes so
wide... there I was, working Homicide. Cases
unsolved drive me insane, like thunderous
storms and heavy rain, gave me a stroke and now
I carry a cane, a bag of liquor and pills and
lots of pain, consume my body and relax my
brain. PTSD is ugly you see, PTSD has happened
to me, but I wouldn't trade it for killers that
never went free. The thugs and crooks I put
behind bars, the chases and thrills of stolen
cars, or the fights and scars that I got in
bars. I was a policeman, I was good and maybe
the best, I wore on my chest a bullet proof
vest, and every day I was put to the
test...slept few hours without much rest, but I
gave Justice for those who died...and Lord I
was proud to be "Homicide".
About the Author
Detective Patrick Shrum began his law
enforcement career as a police explorer. He
enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. He
became a military police officer and during his
service he provided law enforcement and
security for Marine One under both President
Bush and Obama. After his Marine Corps
service, he became a Federal Police Officers;
and, then a Los Angeles Police Officer; and,
joined another Southern California Police
Department where he has recently been promoted
to Detective. He is a recipient of the
“Presidential Service Certificate Award for
Honorable Service in the White House, and the
highest civilian police award-The Medal of
Valor”
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