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The Sicilian Family

Poetry By: PoeticKing
Mystery and crime



This poem is one I wrote after reading about criminal activity in well planned syndicates such as the Italian Mafia. The Italian Mafia, or otherwise known as 'La Cosa Nostra' is an infamous organisation which has thrived the criminal underworld for decades. The poem is from the viewpoint of a well established 'Don' in the mafia who's life is bound to criminality and 'the family', the poem takes us through a summary of his life and shows us the perspective of what mafia members lives are really like.

PLEASE NOT THAT ALL OF THE CHARACTERS ARE FICTIONAL AND ARE NOT INTENDED TO OFFEND ANY AUDIENCE.


Submitted:Apr 1, 2013    Reads: 41    Comments: 4    Likes: 3   


The Family.

Drinking since I was seven,

Dealing drugs since I was eleven,

Told by my father to stop praying, 'cause there's no way we're reaching heaven.

.

Sugarcoating reality by calling it a family,

Our hands in everything that seeks notoriety,

Beating the other kids at school into a coma,

Slowly becoming acustomed to the bloody aroma.

.

Twenty-five and a heroin addict,

Cash flowing in through all means illicit,

Indulged, a slave to the wealth,

My brothers, the family and ofcourse myself.

Three kids and a bitch I love more than life,

God help any man who lays a single finger on my wife,

Buying her the elaborate and only the finest,

With me strolling round the fucking city like your highness.

.

Violent and blood thirsty,

My hands always dirty,

Charged with first degree murder at the age of thirty.

Judge sentenced me to fourty years in the can,

Told the kids to stay safe and take care of their nan,

I told Galley not to fuck with me from the start,

And to this day I still have no remorse in my heart.

He bought on his death when he beat my 5 year old son,

Said that it gave him a kick, and that he did it out of fun.

Squeeling like a peccary when I torched his worhtless soul,

Then swung and broke his ribcage with a heavy iron pole,

He squirmed and begged for mercy, his face became dull,

But then he fell silent when I popped a 20Cal straight through his skull.

.

So now I'm sixty and running the kingdom behind bars,

Replacing lost souls as if they're a few used cars,

My bitch got a new fella and the kids won't see me,

But to hell with them, I'm the one who's got it easy.

Banknotes filling my accounts, and no longer in the minus,

Our cocaine from the Philipines blocking up another addicts sinus,

Setting hits is now a daily routine,

Our brutality, to an extent which has never before been seen,

Extortion rackets, burning another bankers eye sockets,

And I'm sitting here in prison with a bitch clinging onto my pockets.

.

For this is the life and the family I live by,

So be either prepared to slaughter, prosper or die,

Ending lives on a rota,

A king in Cosa Nostra,

And in the famous words of Don Elfonze,

"Become more ruthless as death draws closer".

O.T. (PoeticKing)

2013





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