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Mark mark.wells21@btinternet.com

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Member Since: Jun, 2003

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Gangster Land
by Mark mark.wells21@btinternet.com

Thursday, June 26, 2003

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           >> View all 104


GANGSTER LAND PART ONE



I sat at my desk detailed plans lay open, which I mused over one by one,


I didn’t want this job to go horribly wrong.


Every small detail of the bank robbery had been taken care of; my mind was alive with thought,


If we pulled this of we would be away with our loot, not banged up caught.


It was fool proof, a criminal’s delight,


As long as we stick to the plan things would go right.


Pretty Boy Floyd came in: Hey boss do we have the green light to proceed?


We have the green light: I said sinisterly…we will succeed!


I have got the Uzi machine guns, one for me, one for you and Mouse.


All the necessary procedures are in place boss even the safe house.


Have you remembered the false I.D cards: I said,


In my pocket boss: he said producing the cards remarkably copied in red.


Good get the car ready I will be down soon,


Right boss: Floyd left the small well-furnished room.


I gathered the plans up pocketing them in a secret compartment within the desk,


My I.D badge around my neck looked authentic above my insignia crest.


I slipped a magazine into the Uzi enjoying the cold feel of the weapon, a jet-black force,


The recoil always pumped me full of adrenaline, my veins would throb and coarse.


Exiting the building I got into the van with the gang,


This was going to be messy I thought it will all go off with a cordite bang.


Streets flashed past as we headed for the bank, it was dark,


Neon signs swayed in the wind, someone was getting mugged in the park.


Colored youths prayed on the week, flick knifes glinted under the streetlights,


Others drank booze looking for whites to call over and fight.


A patrol car sped by, blue lights ablaze,


Trying to weave its way around the built up traffic maze.


The usual girls hung out across Prattler Street looking for guys in cars,


Or a willing payer leaving the closing bars.


We rolled up a block away from the bank, security lights flicked on and off on alternate floors,


A guard was visible reading a copy of playboy near the green glass door.



 


 


GANGSTER LAND PART TWO



The bank was an impressive site awe-inspiring would come to mind,


Pitted columns flanked the doorway; marble facades adorned the walls.


It was a construction marvel with extensive flowing halls.


Security cameras panned across the great marble steps, others were dotted around the side,


Even the darkest shadows you had nowhere to hide.


The main alarm system was hooked up to the police; they could be here within five,


The station was visible from the bank window it was not far to drive.


We got out of the van; our suits and I.D badges made us look quite bon-afide,


Even if we had Uzi’s tucked away out of site.


Pretty Boy Floyd and myself walked up to the bank door,


The security guard looked up with surprise dropping his Playboy mag on the floor.


The bank is closed for business today gentleman, come back in opening hours: He said,


Were from Parker’s Holding, we need to check our database for a leaked security file: I said with a flick of the head.


Place your I.D cards on the Felix scanner, proceed on green flash,


The doors clicked open we were so close to the cash.


We walked up to the reception desk smiling at the guard,


If you would sign the register please for our record cards.


The Uzi slipped into my hand, raising the weapon I fired at the guard spraying a whole magazine into his writhing bod,


I sniffed the cordite with a satisfied nod.


We must be quick he has a check call to make on the hour,


Outside the heavens opened up it was only a light showers.


We meandered towards the golden lift doors directly to our right,


Entering the lift we pressed the big down button light.


One floor down the bank opened up into a vast hall,


Pictures of major banks from across the world adorned the walls.


A steel vault door lay in front, it was like a vault to hell,


Seemingly impregnable with flashing alarm bells.


A huge wheel lay in the middle, with a small computer keypad to the right,


This flashed as if it was alive illuminating the hall bright.



 


GANGSTER LAND PART THREE



Pretty Boy Floyd removed a de-scrambler device from his left pocket and punched in a code,


The keypad flickered then clicked, from the scanned light strobe.


I quickly turned the steel wheel, suprised how easily it turned for its size,


We were so close…so close to that allusive prize.


The door slid open with a high-pressured ping,


We both looked on dreamily, our hard work had paid off we were in.


Entering the vault large steel drawers were all around,


Opening these we emptied the contents meticulous without sound.


Crisp Dollar Bills lined our bags, each drawer emptied with a smile,


There had to be well over a million Dollars alone in one pile.


Suddenly the vault door closed, sealing us inside,


Boss the door has closed, Looks like we have been taken for a ride.


Our plan was foolproof; who would scupper our big day?


It doesn’t matter now but when I get out they will pay.


Pretty Boy said: How long will we get boss inside the clink?


Well it isn’t going to be days, what do you think.


We sat down awaiting our fate, slowly the door opened wide,


Police S.W.A.T were everywhere; there was nowhere to hide.


Pretty Boy Floyd…Well… well…well and Mark Capone,


You boys look shell-shocked washed out like stone.


Who dropped us in it? I asked my face a sneer,


We have a security building just around the rear.


It overlooks the bank; we can see anyone… the guard let us know,


Shame about the guard you shot you really put on a good show.


Yeah but not good enough: I said I thought we had covered everything well.


Not good enough my friend you can enjoy life in a cold dank cell.



 


Newark Times


At half past three in the morning Mark Capone, and Pretty Boy Floyd were arrested for murder and attempted robbery at Newark Bank,


At last evil crime lords have been extinguished from our streets we have the police to thank.


The sentence is life; we can all sleep safe at night no more gangland hell,


I hope the pair grow old and rot in their cell.



 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 

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