Before The Badge Goes On

Another night, another battle in my chest,

Scrubs on, hands shaking, can’t quiet the unrest.

Parking lot headlights cut through the fear,

I breathe in deep — alright, we’re here.

The unit hums like a storm behind a door,

And I’m praying my burnout don’t spill on the floor.

But I walk in anyway, heart pounding like a drum,

’Cause someone’s gotta show up when the darkness comes.

I’m a night‑shift warrior with a tired spine,

Burnout in my pocket but I still hold the line.

Anxiety screaming but I don’t back down —

I clock in, chin up, even when I drown.

Psych ward nights, where the brave don’t brag —

Just a badge, a heartbeat, and a worn‑out swag.

Voices echo down the hall like ghosts,

Patients fighting demons that hurt the most.

I steady my breath, keep my tone low,

’Cause safety’s a dance only night shift knows.

I’m running on caffeine, instinct, and grit,

But I’ll be damned if I ever quit.

Even burned out, even scared inside —

I’m still the calm in the 3 AM tide.

And when the sun creeps up like a slow sunrise,

I’m reminded why I fight through the panic and the lies.

’Cause healing ain’t pretty, and hope ain’t clean —

But I’ve seen miracles in the spaces between.

Yeah, I’m a night‑shift warrior with a cracked-up soul,

But I show up anyway — that’s the only goal.

Burnout heavy, but I still stand tall —

’Cause even when I’m breaking, I answer the call.