Thoughts of the Innocent


I got a job, mom!  I remembered what you said.

You told me to serve others, so I obeyed my heart instead.

You told me to have an honorable living, to give to those in need,

So I chose a vocation where I can serve my community.

I work many long hours in the heat, the snow, the rain.

I do it because it’s my calling, and you won’t hear me complain.

Today I got an assignment, it wasn’t one I was asking for;

I had to protect some people, who hate me and my brothers more.

Though we may see things differently, to my job I still was true.

There wasn’t any question: I’d work and proudly wear the blue.

But something went wrong mom.  I don’t know why it did.

I’ve worked so many other noisy, loud, and difficult gigs.

But this one was different, that’s very clear to see.

I’m lying on the street, mom, and I’m wondering, Why Me?

Why am I the one to suffer; why am I asked to give my all?

I didn’t do anything wrong, mom; I simply answered my call.

Please tell my dad I love him; I am thankful he was my friend,

And though it’s not what I had planned, it seems things are going to end.

Please tell my brothers I’m sorry.  I did my very best.

Please hug my sisters and know I proudly passed my test.

I stayed true to my calling, while the bullets flew through the air.

I did what I was asked to do, even though others just don’t care.

I’m sorry mom; I’ll miss you. Please know you did things right.

You raised a boy who loves you and God; looks like I’ll meet Him tonight.

What did I do wrong, mom?  This isn’t how it should end!

I wanted to live a full life, surrounded with family and friends.

I see a lot of blood now, the pavement is so wet.

My head is getting heavy, my body aches, and yet

I hope I did you proud mom; I did what you had asked.

I gave my life, gave all I had, now others must perform that task.

My breath is getting weaker; it’s hard for me to see.

I’m going home now, mom, where heroes wait to welcome me.

Please try to find forgiveness, mom; this world can’t hold more hate.

I know it won’t be easy, and for you in heaven I’ll wait.

I still don’t understand it; we probably never will.

Why do some think it’s okay to hate and want to see us killed?

I love you mom; never forget that.  I’ll watch you from above.

For now though, it’s goodbye; I give you all my love.

– Hannah



I wrote this from the perspective of a fallen Dallas police officer, trying to make sense of the horror I feel in my own heart.  The inspiration for the post is from an old poem (author unknown) about drunk driving.  The sentiment and words above are mine. 



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