The Hitmans A Cop

does dirty work for the clan
he is the lodges laundry man
carries a badge and a gun
most times kills just for fun

boys in blue turn a blind eye
protected by the illuminati
rest of the masons cover his tracks
hide evidence, obscure the facts

gets away with murder in first degree
sanctioned by crown agents see
a matter of National Security
must think about public safety?

all the files are hidden away
will never see the light of day
from b'nai brith the orders came
how to erase, this pest, his name

a ballot cast, the vote is done
political opponents will be gone
here they decide a persons fate
no matter poor, rich or great

once the master gives the nod
your time is up, make peace with god
dead man walking, that's for sure
nowhere to run and no cure

suicide, accident, shot in the street
heart attack, poison or to death beat
professional, clinical and so clean
as if in the first place he'd never been

the demon doesn't care just carries it out
never thinks of reasons or what it's about
he'll be rewarded with promotions and cash
unless talks too much then it's his throat they'll slash

for the deceased they erect a plaque
says, 'an innocent victim of such an heinous attack'
send donations to the widow and son
then it's back to normal and life carries on
//this poem may be censored or contain copying errors

by John Fenton Mcleish

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