She opened the door and knew. The moonlight glistened on his badge and she knew. All the answers were shining there on the dull gold plate wrapped in a black band in honor of someone else’s son.
Recently, you’ve been in my dreams. Last night, I came into the house, and you were in your office as usual, and I hovered in your doorway as usual, but we had to maintain physical contact after that, it was an imperative, you came downstairs just to hold my hand, I could feel the sweat between your fingers, and we only let go to change where we sat in the room. When we couldn’t hold hands, I put my hand on your knee. There was suddenly a crowd, and you played police officer, trying your hardest to kick them all out even though you’re all wire, no sinew, and your yelling contains no belligerence.
Then the police came and I was sure what to do. So, I ran. I ran down the dark street, in the rain, in the cold, wearing only my T-shirt, jeans and Nike’s. It seemed the faster I ran, the colder and wetter I got. I kept looking for a place to hide, but there seemed to no one where to turn.
Police are a neccessary evil. Not because they are evil in nature, but evil in that we need to pay people to keep that bad eggs under control. It’s a problem in a society that in reality, shouldn’t exist.
A society where we were all equals, shared and cared in equal measure for one-another would be ideal, a world to help our growth forward as humanity.
I called the police after hearing glass break at my neighbor’s house. Instead of a smashed window, however, it was an empty wine bottle that had made the sound, and by the time the officers arrived, Mr. Pollack was kneeling against the wall, forehead pressed against the plaster, a precise stream of red flowing from the exposed back of his head.
“These fashion police are a riot,” He says to me. A knowing wink, a slight nod, a tip of a hat, a gloved finger waving: no, no, no!
She opened the door and knew. The moonlight glistened on his badge and she knew. All the answers were shining there on the dull gold plate wrapped in a black band in honor of someone else’s son.
Recently, you’ve been in my dreams. Last night, I came into the house, and you were in your office as usual, and I hovered in your doorway as usual, but we had to maintain physical contact after that, it was an imperative, you came downstairs just to hold my hand, I could feel the sweat between your fingers, and we only let go to change where we sat in the room. When we couldn’t hold hands, I put my hand on your knee. There was suddenly a crowd, and you played police officer, trying your hardest to kick them all out even though you’re all wire, no sinew, and your yelling contains no belligerence.
A complicated issue
that isn’t really complicated
why can’t people understand that
Police are people too
What happened to that 7 letter word?
Police you rack! No time for sluggards or layabouts! Ready to move out it 1 mark!
Then the police came and I was sure what to do. So, I ran. I ran down the dark street, in the rain, in the cold, wearing only my T-shirt, jeans and Nike’s. It seemed the faster I ran, the colder and wetter I got. I kept looking for a place to hide, but there seemed to no one where to turn.
Police are a neccessary evil. Not because they are evil in nature, but evil in that we need to pay people to keep that bad eggs under control. It’s a problem in a society that in reality, shouldn’t exist.
A society where we were all equals, shared and cared in equal measure for one-another would be ideal, a world to help our growth forward as humanity.
I called the police after hearing glass break at my neighbor’s house. Instead of a smashed window, however, it was an empty wine bottle that had made the sound, and by the time the officers arrived, Mr. Pollack was kneeling against the wall, forehead pressed against the plaster, a precise stream of red flowing from the exposed back of his head.
Mrs. Pollack was nowhere to be found.