On The Yard Poem by johnny dodo

we sat on the yard trying to look hard
like a collection of brutish retards

when out of nowhere the siren did blare
somebody went into intensive care

I hope that he'll live they can't find the shiv
my guess is between his third or fourth rib

they say he's not long his pulse wasn't strong
I think the choir's sung its last song

oh well with a shrug resumed our mean mugs
ain't it great living your life as a thug