Informer

He stands on the corner,
Waiting to turn informer.
Raining, he stands with his hood up,
The police he’s waiting for are corrupt.

He doesn’t know,
He thinks it’s a show,
For his boss,
Soon he won’t have teeth to floss.

He jumps in back,
It’s so dark, it’s black.
His boss turns to greet him,
He wasn’t supposed to be at this meeting.

He knows he dead,
He tries to flee instead,
They catch him up at the next corner,
He never made it to informer.

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