A man involved with crime tries to justify himself and comes to terms with his rationale.

The rush, the thrill, the gamble.
Once you start you can’t stop.
Men like us don’t change,
We only get better or worse at what we do.

I am respected here,
I plan all the jobs,
I pick the crews,
I always do the dirtiest work.

Its not the money- Its not tangible,
We only hate haters,
The ultimate hypocrites.
…I lied, it is the money.

In the end it’s all a lie;
Fame that has to be hidden,
Respect from the unrespectable.
Men like us can’t change.

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Comments (2)
  • Sarah on Sep 16, 2007

    I have been reading your poems. Your really good! Keep it up! I will look out for more in the future from you!

  • Sloverid on Feb 13, 2008

    Sarah, Thank you! Most of my work here is rather old, I’ve just started dabbling again. I hope I give you more worth reading soon!

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