True To The Game Poem by Mustafa Marconi

I needed to know what’s on your mind
Willing to wager your eager to sign
The pressure is mounting
The numbers are grand
Sensing reluctance
To stick to the plan
Eager to see if the armor is steel
If your true to the code
If your gangster is real
Your anxious and nervous
Ready to turn
Reaching for lifelines
With selfish concerns
Willing to trade a king’s ransom
You start naming names
Hiding in solitude
To diminish the pain
I needed to confirm your intensions to deal
A walking cadaver persuaded to squeal
The pressure is mounting
Tensions are high
Sensing reluctance
I sanction the plan
Eager to see if the armor was steel
True to the code
Our gangster was real
Anxious and nervous
Ready to turn
Begging for lifelines
With selfish concerns
I received a king’s ransom
For turning away
Dying in solitude
He called out my name
The D.A. endeavored to intimidate
Attempting to menace another inmate
Applying strong pressure
With numbers so grand
I suffer mistreatment
And stick to the plan
Eager to see if my armor was steel
True to the code
My gangster was real
Cool, calm, and collected
With no selfish concerns
Gave them my finger
And welcomed my turn
Tucking away a King’s ransom
To never name names
I find solace and comfort with the undeniable fact
That I was true to the game