When The Lines Blur, I Lose Poem by Rashida Mack

Today is like any other day,
Accept I shed my uniform
For plain clothes undercover.
Assigned to work the beat,
for the anticrime unit in the 25th precinct,
Punching on and off the clock,
My time is complete in the projects of Harlem.
Eager to head home,
I approach my car and see a man breaking into my ride home,
After initial apprehension,
He breaks free of my grip,
I begin pursuit with arms in hand,
And then,
A fellow officer shoots ME down with six rounds,
No protocols followed,
Or questions asked,
Another officer,
Approaches my body,
And in an attempt at revival,
Rips open my shirt which reveals,
My police academy t-shirt,
He searches my pockets for identification,
And finds my badge,
I,
Omar J. Edwards,
Father of two,
Husband to one,
a black man to all,
am dead,
While my perpetrator is free,
My story made headlines,
And garnered a quote from Mayor Bloomberg,
But what about the others,
The innocent boys, men, women and girls,
Robbed through
“mistaken identity? ”
Open your eyes.

*Goldenphant.com