Updated: Apr 10, 2021
We have published this on behalf of a person that we have been supporting upon their request and as part of their recovery journey. It is their words, their thoughts - but it may resonate literally as well as perhaps on a wider level.
If you read this, please do comment either on here or on our main Twitter page and let the individual know they are not alone.
I’m stood here – cold – numb
What has happened?
I was just talking about weekend plans
Now I hold The Hand
The bloodied Hand
The Hand that reached out to mine as the light died in its owner’s eyes
The dampened light that will extend to your family
Another needless tragedy
One that I committed
One for which I am to blame
I feel nothing but shame
Shame for the life that I couldn’t save
The foreboding door before me
Behind, the family of The Hand I couldn’t save
How do I explain?
He has gone?
I hold the Office for which I signed
Back in the day, on the dotted line
“The public are the Police” and conversely
So I let you down and my colleagues universally
For ‘what I want’ and ‘what I can’
Are two different things in this life I span
Of holding the line, to serve and protect
Its each one of you I neglect
The child I cannot shield from the world of hurt
To the woman violated because of the size of her skirt
Your house invaded – me, you will not see
Burglary is no longer a priority
So I am to blame for your hurt and pain
When I cannot protect you from the rain
Of a society which devalues your strife
And places your burden in my hands like a knife
And why can’t I do the things for you
That you need me to?
Because I’m stood here for all to see
The blood on My Hands that belongs to thee