Birds Of A Feather
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Birds of a feather stick together, the old proverb says,
And nowhere is this more apparent, than around this job these days.
Patrol teams all work separately, beat teams work alone,
While traffic roams the city working on their own.
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Now the question I must ask you, I'll keep it very small,
If we all are working separately, how can we work at all.
I recall we are policemen, sworn in to do the task,
Of protecting life and property, is that to much to ask.
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Instead we get small empires, where prima donnas roam,
If you want some information, better get it on your own.
This thought holds true especially, with some who walk a beat,
Patrol is just a place to go, when they want to rest their feet.
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There are other ones around this job, who display this attitude,
And some who take it further still, to the point of being rude.
I wonder what the problem is, we all have spent good times,
Working as Patrolmen, reporting different crimes.
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We all complain about morale, and recall the times gone by,
Of how we solved some "major" case, and end it with a sigh.
Those days that we remember, are sadly at an end,
When every single policeman, could be thought of as a friend.
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I don't include all beat men, or other special teams,
Because, not all are like that, just a small amount it seems.
The resentment that it fosters, is not the way to go,
So maybe now the guilty ones, can change the status quo.
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I will not mention any names, they know who they are,
And possibly their tunes will change, when they climb into their car.
We must all work together, since we all work side by side,
Only then can we attempt to ,stem the quickly rising tide.
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P. C. 664 T. J. Gowdyk 84-06-17 (18)
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