The policeman stood and faced his maker
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now police officer
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To your maker have you been true?"

The police officer with squared shoulders said
"No sir I guess I ain't,
Because those of us who carry badges
Can't always be a saint."

"I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my walk was rough.
And at times I have been violent,
Because the streets are tough."

"But I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked lots of overtime
When the bills just got to steep."

"And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, please forgive me,
I wept unmanly tears."

"I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears."

"But if you've got a place for me here
Well it need not be too grand.
I never expected or had much
So if you don't I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the room
Where the saints respectfully stood,
As the police officer waited quitely
For the judgement bad or good.

"Step forward now police officer
You've borne your burdens well,
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets
You've done your time in Hell."

Author Unknown