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It could have ended horridly the night the PO-PO came,
slamming gloved fist upon our door in hour three a.m.
Virginia is for lovers, just ask Virginia v Loving,
but fist of Virginia Beach police on door was crushing.

The house where we were staying was brother’s wife’s father’s,
just couple couples visiting who each had two toddlers.
My brother slept in master, long with Julie his wife
my mate and I slept in spare room at Mel Brook’s that night.

My brother’s son named Justin, with our son Kevie-Kev
slept down in the living room upon a pull-out bed.
Kelsey and Sean too sleeping upon a pull-out couch
I hurried to door pounding to see what noise was about.

There upon the front stoop of V-A-B townhouse
stood couple in dark uniforms while behind me stood my spouse.
“We’re looking for a fugitive, we’ve report that he is here,
we’d like to search the premises, make sure the coast is clear?”

We can blame it on the hour, we can blame it on the times,
but from my mouth came an answer of imbecilic kind.
“Guys, I am not O.J.,” I said, referencing Simpson,
“and this house does not belong to me, but looks like in you’ll come.”

So in came pair of PO-PO with their heavy, bright flashlights
the pair shined on tiny children, fast asleep in darkest night.
“We need to search the whole house, anyone else in here with you?”
I replied that Greg and Julie upstairs were sleeping too.

Like booted thugs they scurried up to room where brother slept,
mostly I was unafraid, product of White Privilege.
Gregory was sleeping, beside him slept Julie
the prying PO-PO shined their lights wherever wished to see.

The police without search warrant I allowed in domicile
my only real fear at the time disturbance of my child.
Our children were not shaken, as the four did not stir,
but in Mel Brook’s house that night four adults were disturbed.

Disturbed and endangered by those who protect and serve
all without rhyme nor reason as to what was observed.
Did someone call a tip in concerning man the PO-PO sought?
What reasoning did PO-PO have to think in Mel’s house he’d be caught?

Virginia Beach round solstice time sky four-thirty starts to light
four adults sit on Mel’s rear deck swayed by anger and fright.
Declarations for our safety came from PO-PO men
but those awakened in the night our peacefulness did end.

A quarter-century has passed, I’m not so trusting now;
know most cops think they’re good, but many are fast on the draw.
Three people shot dead by police on an average day,
loss of an innocent loved one is one helluva price to pay.

A price to pay for getting by and doing best we can;
we all know saw about bad apple ruining the whole brand.
Just an inconvenience, this rousing in the night?
Those with the power make the rules is my final insight.