I am Afraid of the Police

A poem I wrote for a school assignment. Please help me edit it!

When I was twelve the police came to my house,

a cottage with cement driveways and a “welcome home” doormat.

Surrounded by neighbors with white picket fences,

and all of my neighbors had two kids and steady jobs.

There was a park right down the street,

where rusty swings creaked back and forth.

When I was twelve the police came to my house,

but my mom told me never to answer the door when she wasn’t home.

The outside world was the enemy.

And yet somehow, whenever the doorbell rang,

I was always the first to peep through the cracks in the blinds,

and find out who was waiting outside.

So much anticipation lay in who was waiting outside.

It was never more than well-dressed men with starched white shirts,

trying to teach us about religion.

When I was twelve the police came to my house,

but my mom wasn’t home.

There was pounding at the door, and my sister was crying,

I finally opened the door, just to make to make the noise stop.

My face streaming with tears, because I was afraid.

Wearing bunny pajamas with feet attached.

I just wanted to call my mom.

When I was twelve, the police came to my house,

and took my sister and I outside,

into the bitter night air that otherwise would have felt pleasant.

The car ride to the children’s shelter was a blur,

I didn’t know we were going, because nobody told me,

I didn’t see my mom for a long time after that.

I just wanted to call her and tell her I was sorry.

My mom told me never to answer the door when she wasn’t home.

I am afraid of the police.

And every time an officer comes to my school,

dressed in a uniform with a silver star,

All I can think about is that night, and how I couldn’t stop crying.

All I can think is that one day, it might happen again.

I know that a police officer is supposed to make you feel safer,

but ever since that night, I realized that everyone is just a person.

And just like I tried to follow those orders from my mom, never to answer the door,

Policemen have to follow orders too.

Sometimes people make mistakes, because they have to follow orders,

even if they don’t agree.

I just wish they had let me call my mom.

Author's Note

please help me edit this!

Reviews

[Bright Ocean Star]

Ok. This is really, really, good. But you asked me to help you edit this. The only improvement I could find might be in the line...."The car ride to the children's shelter was a blur," Instead of the comma, but a semi colon. Then put a period after the next line. The line after that should be capitalized to start a short sentence. Technically, I believe that would be more correct, but again...the poem is amazing. Thanks for sharing it.