Curse Not The COP

Names upon names a cop is called
And like scattered beans his heart is put apart.
Dispirited, rejected and maligned he becomes,
When his name is dragged into the gutters
And to the cleaners it is sold without a price.
The very people he is trained to protect
See nothing worthy in him than a societal misfit,
Calling him corrupt, biased, callous and wicked
And as if that is not enough, thief they crown him scornfully,

And like the dinosaur, he is perceived.
But engulfed is the Cop with thousands of joy
And high esteem he is held by loyal hearts
Appreciating his hard works to mother Ghana.
Behold! Forever the heart of the cop will smile
Because of the few that know his worth.
By Felix Kwaku-Dua