I'm just a young man
trying to discern
why they say
you gain more and more with each and every day
the reality is I'm nothing
and i don't see the light
its why i stay up till 5 am
every single night

Those who work hard will always get their way
I say that's *******
I still try everysingle day.
I don't have an office a desk or a chair
I wear a **** gun and get spit on in my hair
My head is on a swivel
my my hand is on my gun
I wear a vest of Kevlar
and i search for the one
the one who will take my life
I fear its almost done.

Some people tell you if you wai
Then the good will come
have patience man in the meantime
Dude just have some fun
well that ain't too easy smokin' butts from a tray
having no gas and no food its not the easy way.

I'm 30 years old
I don't have a future
my cars a pt crusier
well I'm just a loser
my job isn't great
Im a cop that is for hire
I only deal with liars
While my *** is in the fire.

I want so much more than the hand that life has dealt me
chin up, look straight , hard work
you cannot tell me
I push seventy hours in a week for nearly nothing
at least if i was someone
my life would be worth something

So I'll just go to work in the cold and in the rain
Ill chase down those who cause havoc
those who cause us pain
Ill deal with the insults
the snickers and the laughter
you're admiration and affection
that's not what I am after.

My badge reflects who I am
just like a mirror
a man with little skills
except tactics and terror
a guy who does the hard ****
without even a letter
of appreciation from anyone around me,
they see me daily and they just poke fun at me
I do what I do because I have a calling
to prevent the good folk
from crying, falling and just dying.
I run towards what everyone runs away from.
crackheads bangers and loaded guns.

I just cant  understand the argument
That their sending.
Where white guys and black guys  
Can't just be friends its never ending
Truth be told its got nothing to do with our skin
It's a mental condition that will doom us in the end

I think back twenty years
Back then I was just ten.
Dominique and Dave
They were my two best friends.
I didn't even bother to see the color of their skin.
I'm white their black no more, no care.
No fear no hate just friends the end.

Flash forward to the these days.
Today and yesterday.
I am called a racist all day
Monday through sunday.
Because I wear a badge and I have a loaded gun.
People just assume that I'm a bigot
That I'm out to **** someone.

They say that I must be something
Something that I'm not.
They only see the news,
I'm a racist pig cop.
I cannot drink a coffee
Without whispers and stares.
"Hands up" , "Don't shoot". t
The words are always there.
They shout them as I'm driving
Standing in a Mall
They scream then while I'm walking
Or responding to a call.
I've never been a racist
I don't think I could.
People of all colors
Come in both bad and good.
We need to love each other ,
I really wish we would
God never wanted this,
lets stop this as we should.

My gun, my badge
Have nothing to do with me.
Its my job, my life.
why can't these people see.
I didn't chose this life
To pick on other races.
I chose this life to put
Criminals in safer places.
I've never suited up with any ill intentions
To arrest black people
or send them to detentions.
I only play mean
When the world turns me to stone.
Inside I am a brother, a son, and hopefully a father.
Your skin color does not matter to me a single ounce.
Your actions gain my attention and that's the whole amount.

If you break the law I'll find you.
Hurt someone I'm coming.
No matter what the color
I promise I'll do something.

Racist is not my name,
Its Jay Hello how are you?
Stop calling me a racist
It's mean and its just hurtful
I'll give my life for you,
I will not be remorseful.
I'll pull you from a fire
I'm really that resourceful.
Its all how you view things.
Life is what we make it.
I'll smile at your kids.
And find them when their lost
I'll break into your car
When your keys have been forgot.
I'll always come running
Whenever you call me
Black ,white,red,blue,purple.
They are just colors
I'm here to help people.
My sisters , My brothers.

To say that I'm a racist is bigotry at its best.
Defining a person for a color or badge upon their chest.
To say someone is something
Without knowing their whole story.
Is like burning a book,
You destroy them without warning.
You don't know me
So please don't think it's true.
Judge who I am
Know me before you do.

What do you think right before you go home.
Works done
Oh yay
I have to mow the lawn.

Maybe laundry
Or TV
Or a home cooked meal.
Maybe ***
Or sleep
Sounds like a great deal.

You're safe.
In your office
With key carded doors
A Computer
Your coffee
On the 21st floor

A printer
It jams
Your boss he gets ******
Your numbers are off
You sent the wrong list.
The laptop just crashed
And so did the market
Your bonus
Your promotion
All the daily commotion.

You think of the game
Or maybe your kids
Drinks at the bar with co workers and friends.

Your job is a pain
Its long and its boring
Carpel tunnel
And back pain are what make you worried.

There is another kind of job.
One that has danger
Adrenaline
Sadness
Heat
And anger.
It doesn't go away when the clock signals five.
Every single day you struggle to stay alive.

The police
Security
Soldiers
And men fighting fires.
Who run to help criers.

They don't worry about the mail or the laundry
They don't ponder on if there's carrots or broccoli
The thoughts that pass through are dark and their scary.
Their jobs in themselves can get quite hairy.

No baseball or soccer
No drinks and no bars.
No dates with the wife
Or husbands or cars.

The questions are asked on a daily basis
Will I live
Will I die
Will I leave all these places

Is he drunk
Is he High
Is he violent or crazy
Will he **** me
Will I **** him
Is this guy dead or is he just lazy.
Who's in the darkness
And who's in the fire.
Who's going to hurt me.
I'm so **** tired.
Can I breathe
Will I burn
Do I have enough air
Will I run out of ammo
Who even cares.
Will I see her again?
My wife
Or my daughter
Maybe my son.
I'd like another.
My parents my friends
Should I fire my gun?
Did he stop shooting
Was there only just one?

We all have thoughts.
Both good and both bad.
We all tend to worry.
About the day that we've had.
Most go home and leave work in the office.
Some don't have such a easy option.
Their job is their life
they never leave work
It follows them home and it always hurts.
Before they clock out
Before they clock in.
The fear and the doubt it tries to get in.
But strong hearts are rigid
They've suffered through pain.
They'll be there tomorrow
They'll do it again.