His wallet containing four hundred pounds,
Blasting in his ear, Hip Hop sounds.
In his suede jacket,
A rather large pay packet.
A bunch of keys for a lock,
An airline ticket bound for Bangkok.
A credit card out of date,
His hair looks a right state.
A picture of a loved one,
And what looks like his only son.
A mobile phone,
In recieved calls, his Aunt Joan.
Written on a piece of paper found in his car,
An address for Sindy's Bar.
Covered in gold and some silver,
Could he be a drug dealer?
In his hand a note,
Saying 'Get out now, otherwise we'll slit your throat! '
Look over there, a wedding ring,
That was eveything.
By Jay Basey © 2006
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