|PCSO PCSO’s… walk around with no where to go,
Through markets and alleyways looking for goals,
Some speak to people as though they are ‘slow’,
Unaware of the intellect they thought was a foe,
Often confused with those traffic wardens you know,
But missing the red tape around the bowl
The words echo ‘chop chop, you’ve got 5 minutes to go!’
Staring at the ignorant driver, that drives… too slow.
People ask those questions and then walk off in the opposite direction,
Not fountains of knowledge, just always give perception,
Building bridges in the community,
That’s what we’re for!
Helping old ladies feel comfortable opening the door,
A visible deterrent reassuring the poor
And that worried Parent always exposing a flaw.
‘Vagies’ become your friends,
But only for pretend,
Telling those stories that never end,
Of times when they’ve puked up in the Thames,
Grasping that white ice you’ve already seen twice,
Inside their scruffy coat as they continue to gloat.
“No one cares, no one cares”…but the PCSO’s fake smile
Continues to glare.