BALLAD Poem: PULLED OVER, by Howard Osborne

Hands on the wheel, if you please
There’s no need to act all snooty
I am after all, just doing my duty
So tell me Sir, just what are these

On the front seat right beside you
It looks to me like two guns there
And automatics as you’ll be aware
You surely know what I must do

Now slowly, just get out of the car
Maybe it’s an innocent explanation
But I need much more information
Try running, and you won’t get far

So, it’s a client you’re due to meet
Tell me what brings you out this way
You’re on official business, you say
Ah, this will make my day complete

Your driver’s licence I require to see
My gun is drawn so do reach in slow
As I can react real quickly you know
Don’t ever think that you’ll fool me

Writing up my report will take time
My shift is over and I’ll get back late
Your samples I must now confiscate
In this country, it is clearly a crime

But Hey, at least you gave it a try
Knowing this isn’t your jurisdiction
Yet all this is not a work of fiction
As I saw that your badge said FBI