I love the Police. Even the word sounds so sweet Po-Li-Ce <br />I love the way they flash that bright white light in my face when they ride pass me- checking to make sure I’m black, and fortunately for me in a car with other black men. <br />I love how the bust that sweet U-turn and hit those red, <br />white and blue lights that let me know I’m in America. That’s Patriotism. <br /> <br />I love to hear the welcoming sound of Blup Blup Blup as I slowly pull my car <br />over in a poorly lit area. <br />I love how he walks towards me with his hand on his gun, <br />ready to protect me from criminals, no doubt. <br />Then he asks me for my license, probably curious about what my picture looks like. <br />I love how he politely asks, after seeing my student ID, if I’ve ever been convicted of felonies, because he wants to develop a personal relationship with me and my past. <br /> <br />I love how he asks if me and my friends can step out of the car, <br />because I know he wants to see the sweet upholstery job in my 89 Cadillac. <br />I love how he asks me and my friends to stand up against a fence <br />with our hands behind our back and our legs apart. <br />He probably wants to see how good we stretch. <br /> <br />Then, after thoroughly examining the interior of my car (with a dog) , <br />he tells me I’m free to go on my merry way. <br />He even whole heartedly, sincerely tells me to have a nice day, <br /> and stay out of trouble. <br />I feel the love LAPD, I feel the love.<br /><br />Hiram Sims<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-feel-the-love-a-love-letter-to-the-lapd/
