In the annals of the notorious, at the top tens
Most wanted list, a gangster stands out in silhouettes shadow,
As public enemy number one, in bold prints blackest ink,
Lies his name written, by bullets riddled tails of infamy.
As the smoke clears, behold he whom is known,
As John Dillinger, steps forth, toting a 32 caliber pistol.
The gentlemen bandit, with blood on his hands,
A defiant rebel, daring the lawmen to pursue him,
At their own risk.
Hoover's FBI, took up this gallant, with both
Chambers loaded and rubber hitting the American
Highways, of destiny.
Newspapers headlines read, stories of the sensational,
Gangsters dressed in dark overcoats, with flat brim hats
Shooting up the innocent bystanders, as they robbed
The banks nation wide.
Exploits dandy Dan, alludes capture, the jackrabbit
Finds his way out again, from the laws well laid
Escapes illusionist, hides in properties obscurity,
While the governmental jackal hunts, the higher
Levels food train, of the cultured and refined.
On the dirty streets of Chicago's underbelly,
The mob hides their fellow kindred of the gun,
Beneath it's skirts of the city's slums.
Twice bitten, the third time charmer, refuses
Two be taken alive again, identities thief,
Changes appearances well known face,
But fame’s pretty boy cannot be denied.
Outside the Marlboro theater, stepped
The lady dressed in red, on the arm
Of her gentlemen about town.
The signal had been given, a lit cigar the
Final clue, exposed the criminals true
Identity and so the legend was born,
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN