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You watch him walk out the door,
Something he’s done so many times before,
Yet each time you give a little start,
Feeling the tremor run through your heart.

Lord, what a man, and he belongs to you.
Your love is real, most of all it’s true.
The father of your children, the reason you live,
Yet he works a job for which his life he’d give.

You note the badge upon his chest,
Knowing "your" cop always gives his best.
He smiles, God what a smile, it sets a fire,
Withers your soul, memories of deep, loving desire.

"I’ll be home at six, supper sounds great,"
Inside you know maybe six, maybe eight,
Maybe not at all, as the city takes its toll,
Answering his calls, both the exciting and the droll.

What inner faith makes a good cop’s wife,
How does she deal with all the tensions and strife?
How can she raise the children, change the date,
Smile when the meal is ruined, because again he’s late?

Lord, forgive him who wears the badge, he’s often remiss,
To say, "I love you, I care for you," to more often kiss,
The one who waits at home sometimes worried silly,
Wondering if he’s coming home or lying in some alley.

It’s true his job demands an awful lot,
There are calls to be answered and battles to be fought.
To help keep the streets safe for everyone,
He does it at all hours, sometimes with the setting/rising sun.

Help him sometimes, often to remember you,
Who knows his love for you is certain and true.
Help him to tell you each and every day,
You’re the one who keeps him able to face the fray.

You are the one that makes it worthwhile,
It’s you that gives him reason to smile.
And it’s you he’ll carry always in his heart,
No one else may ever have that part.

In Memory of Officer Mike Pennington
Tom Guthery, Beneath the Badge