The Tale of Muchacho

Like a flash of light 85 years ran by Gone with the wind they say Gone with the wind they think But it’s really like Years gone by with turmoil and death For the lord of gangsters Lying face up Waiting rather impatiently For death to come whisk him away This was his sad story This was his lot He laughed anytime His personal nurse Asked if he was fine If he was ‘ok’ Why does he laugh you say? Coz if she knew the horrors He had inflicted on others Including himself She would probably Point a pistol to his temple And blow his brains out Or maybe even take a knife And cut him slowly Till he begged for his life Till she drained all his blood And yes, There were 8 million other ways She could kill him He kept laughing She thought he was about to die