Poetry Corner

Verse & Graphic Edit by Poetetc

Wanted Man

The Depression took my job.

And the bankers took the rest.

‘Till the only thing I owned.

Was the Colt inside my vest.

Too proud to beg.

I took the only job that I could find.

Like Dillinger and Charlie Floyd.

I stepped across the line.

The first place that I robbed.

Was the bank that held my loan.

I cleaned them out, and shot the man.

Who took away my home.

To get away, I hitched a ride.

In the mayor’s Cadillac.

The sheriff chased me out of town.

There was just no turning back.

I drove all night, till the sun came up.

And then I stopped to rest.

But I slept with one eye open.

And the Colt across my chest.

The next few years.

I robbed their banks.

And then I robbed some more.

‘Till I had so much damned money.

That I gave it to the poor.

Then one day I heard the news.

And I knew I had arrived.

J. Edgar mentioned me by name.

Wanted, Dead or Alive.

Hoover’s boys kept chasing me.

But they never did succeed.

I made it down to Mexico.

With at least a three day lead.

Now I spend my days drinking nickel beers.

A grandson on my knee.

Some say that crime just doesn’t pay.

But I think I’d disagree…