They are our Fathers, our Mothers, our Sisters, our Brothers,
Our Sons, our Daughters. They are the soldiers of the street.
They've come to fight a different war, one of guns and drugs.
Each night before they work the streets, they leave us with kisses and hugs.
We pray for their safe return which God so kindly gives.
And allows them to share another day with their loved ones, families, and kids.
But then that dreaded day arrived, and the enemy he did meet.
And with the courage of ten good men, he did battle in the street.
Our soldier fought so hard and long. The battle was so fierce.
And even though he showed such strength, he body still was pierced.
His soldiers came, they tried so hard to keep my soldier here.
But God so gently closed his eyes, something we all fear.
They came from all around the world to bid my solider good-bye.
And even though I believe i God, I still ask the question, Why?
My soldier didn't come home last night, and now I'm all alone.
I no longer fall fast asleep knowing he's safely home.
Although I have this tragic loss, I hold my head up high.
For I know he laid down his life protecting you and I.
I cannot bring my solider back, even though I secretly try.
I must believe he"s in a better place and fro this I cannot cry.
Sgt. Phil Lavigne
Teaneck police, N.J.
