Short Badge Poems
Short Badge Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Badge by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Badge by length and keyword.
Give me a gold star badge and a wide brim hat.
Sell me a uniform and show me where to get those boots
Better strap a bullet proof vest on me too
Because I am afraid of guns.
Life's how you make it, happy or sad
Ignore the down days, don't add to the bad
Brighter days await
Down days abate
As natural as breathing, wear a happiness badge
Story_Black Ten, informant
Who
Turns in robber
Burglar selling
Stolen ring_right wins
I remember, do you?
Sponsor: Robert Heemstra
Contest: Just The Facts
Written this 8th day of
April, 2013
While sitting as one
in my grandfather’s chair
Gunsmoke on screen
a Dodge City affaire
Saturday night
as two spirits entwine
Matt Dillon to marshal
— our hopes redefined
(The New Room: December, 2025)
just solved another murder
and put a gold star on my chart
it sits next to my wet-dog-smell-recliner
this is where Beau and I watch crime shows
Solving murders one at a time
gloating when we are right
ignoring my near misses
I have spent years here, waiting for my honorary detective badge.
Margin was short,
minute and hair breadthed,
he smiled outwardly,
and inwardly grimaced,
hid the inner pain,
and buttered the whole main,
His lordship came forward,
quite ingratiated,
waving hands,
he conjured an ace,
of his grace,
which now began to race,
lordship had obliged,
had the margin hedged,
he came out with a winner's badge.
If I had a badge, I would arrest people who yell at dogs
people who poison chipmunks
people who pause at stop signs
people who pass cars on the right
people who text while they are driving
people who shoot fireworks from July 2nd through July 24th
In their cells I would place insomniacs and screamers
to make their life more delightful during their incarceration
First cold rain of the season.
The eyes squint, like a cat pre-pouncing.
Spines turn into wind-whipped icicles.
Bones gently shift to dodge the icy waves.
Like the unborn floats around the unforgiving blade.
First cold rain of the season.
Like your first encounter with a funeral pyre.
That funny smell, the rosy smile.
Trying to cry just like the others.
To proudly wear that salty badge of life."