"T he F inal I nspection "

T he policeman stood and faced his God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining.
Just as brightly as his brass.

" S tep forward now, policeman.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My church have you been true?"

T he policeman squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, 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 talk was rough,
and sometimes I've been violent,
Because the streets are awfully tough.

B ut I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep....
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep.

A nd I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.

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

I f you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't.....I'll understand.

T here was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod.
As the policeman waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

" S tep forward now, policeman,
You've borne your burdens well.
Come walk a beat on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in hell."