Role-Play Poem by Stefanie Fontker

He slams it shut
That poor car's door
And trudges towards
His little old house
Feet tired and hands
Calloused, worked
He leans his head
Ever so slightly
Against his front door
Fingers balled up
Into tight, heavy fists
He counts slowly
To ten and backwards
And breathes deeply
He can hear ruckus
Inside the home he loves
Trying to remind himself
Of his wonderful life
Begging his conscious
To fly away into oblivion
Today was a hard day
A bad case, a terrible
Crime and an ugly corpse
He puts on a smile
Whisking away his frown
His front door swings
Open and remains ajar
When he gazes deeply
Into the eyes of his lover
And notes the smiles
On his children's faces
He knows demons can sleep