Aid and Abet
He said I had to go along.
He could not rob the bank alone.
He gave me that same old sad song,
He needed cash, no one would loan.
He wrote out the gimme loot note.
He did it with arthritic hand.
He put on his best hat and coat.
He picked me up. We went as planned.
He did the deed and stole the cash.
He's laying low now, and me too.
He made the news with quite a splash.
He's quite a guy at 92.
I helped the old guy rob the bank.
I'm a wanted oxygen tank.
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Comments about this poem (Aid and Abet by Ima Ryma )
- Endless game, hasmukh amathalal
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