Thick and deep brown mud
Cake on the boots and shoes
Under random desks
Of this small town squad room
Corkboard art work
Holds a tapestry of the wanted
Pages yellowed under the weight
Of time and circumstance
Faces blend together
But never lose their ferocity
As another case goes cold
Frustration and coffee mixed
With grey and smoke stained walls
From a time not so long ago
Where brutality wasn’t something
Found only on the streets
But in the cages beyond those doors
The cost of justice rises
As the budgets to seek it fall
The determination of the ones in blue
As thick and heavy as the mud
That fills each crevasse on those boots