Compassion
by Raymond Holt
An ex Cranleigh village Bobby
It was only about a month ago
When Ted lost his job through the recession
And took to the bottle, he thought was a friend
Simply to blind his depression
He broke a shop window and started a fight
As he searched in vain for a job,
But Ted was a gentlemen, whose luck had run out
He had never behaved like a yob!
So his wife ran away with the children and dogs
Just to escape from the hell!
And they all ended up in a halfway home
Their lives having crumbled as well.
Ted’s collar was up, there were stains down his shirt
And six day’s growth on his chin,
Both eyes were all bloodshot, his breath was sour
And his wallet was empty and slim.
I listened as the magistrate punished him –
His good character cut in half –
I watched as he crept from the courtroom
Head hung like a newborn calf.
He then sat down on an old stone bench
His eyes just staring into space
And my crusty old sergeant went and sat next to him
Tried to raise a smile on Ted’s face.
He gave Ted a tenner, which left me in shock!
Saying, “That’ll get you home to mum.
You can pay me back when you get a good job.”
He treated him like a son.
But I was so green and very young back then
When I put my kindness on ration –
Could that be the reason many Judges are old
And sometimes show some compassion?
And now I have some hair on my shoulders
And a little bit of grey in my eyes
I too show some heartfelt compassion
To many a young man’s surprise.
LOOKING OVER MY SHOULDER
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