PCSO PCSOâs⌠walk around with no where to go,
Through markets and alleyways looking for goals,
Some speak to people as though they are âslowâ,
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 âchop chop, youâve got 5 minutes to go!â
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,
Thatâs what weâre for!
Helping old ladies feel comfortable opening the door,
A visible deterrent reassuring the poor
And that worried Parent always exposing a flaw.
âVagiesâ become your friends,
But only for pretend,
Telling those stories that never end,
Of times when theyâve puked up in the Thames,
Grasping that white ice youâve already seen twice,
Inside their scruffy coat as they continue to gloat.
âNo one cares, no one caresââŚbut the PCSOâs fake smile
Continues to glare.
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