Prince.(Philip Robb) Poem by Buddy Bee Anthony

There once was a young man named Phil
He'd walk straight out your store
without paying the bill
His street name was Robb
He was a one-man mob
Word on the street
he was a thief of high repute
Make no mistake
he'd pillage your loot
He stole from garages
fast funny cars
He snatched from musicians
their gold-cased guitars
He'd creep off with valuables
lock-picked from boxes
He off-loaded furs
made from ermine and foxes
Phil was unique
He'd shout as he'd speak
He took his free-base
though he didn't play ball
He'd smoke til flat broke
and another police call
But at the scene of the crime
no Phil would they find
Only a plastic container
once containing a pill
Phil was the color of blow
His skin, white as fresh snow
but, he'd bleed you
black as disaster

All copy and publishing reserved as is by this author

Buddy Bee Anthony

Re-Edited 03/15/2023 @ 9: 33 PM Pacific Time