What Policemen Don’t Want Little Girls To Know:

My Dad 


There’s crime.  It exists in every form, every day, at any time.  It gnaws at the weak and makes zombies real.  It brings good people to lie, to cheat, and to steal.  That’s why it is always inside of me.  I have eyes that have witnessed the dregs of society.  I have learned to cope with anxiety.  I’m the guy who goes down to the basements, inside abandoned buildings, ’round dark, scary corners, walking on rooftops.  To serve and to protect all the others at the risk of losing myself to a street that can’t love me or crowds who reject me.  Nothing can protect me; not even this bullet-proof vest that I sport across my chest.  So what am I saying?  I’m saying that I’m the perpetual optimist.  I keep walking a beat believing that the world is worth saving.  That’s why I made you strong and I raised you away from harm.  You’re my commentary, my diary, a living, breathing part of me that I will leave behind.  And it was always worth it.

My Dad,
originally uploaded by Mema13.


About Mema

I've been at this blogging thing since 2005, but I don't consider myself a veteran AT ALL. My posts are mostly well-meaning, fun anecdotes with the occasional random thought and a dash of humor for good measure. So sit back, relax, and stay awhile. And if you decide to browse elsewhere, just remember...you're missing out on an opportunity to meet (arguably) THE GREATEST PERSON THAT EVER LIVED. Overstated? Well, why not stick around to find out? Your call, tough guy. Or, gal. Or, martian.
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