Poetry Directory

Born To Be a Cop

She was born to be a cop

You could see it in her eye,

As she welcomed life

With a soft newborn’s cry.

She dressed as a cop

When she was just a girl of two,

No pink or green for her,

Only blue would do.

She always played the cop

A robber she would never be,

Running beneath the hot summer sun

She played fairly and with dignity.

She was proud to be a cop,

You could see it in her eye,

On cold rainy days,

On warm nights sheltered beneath a summer sky.

She died as a cop

And to this day I still wonder why,

Those she had tried to help

Extinguished that look in her eye.

Poem copyrighted © 2004 by Lydia Warner Miller

Web site copyrighted © 2005 by Lydia Warner Miller