Inch (from my collection of #songs for sinners)

Inch was born a tiny child

He grew up to be wild

He never got tall

Four feet 10 inches in his shoes

Had nothing to lose

He often took a fall

But boy he was as tough

As a prison wall.

He got himself in trouble

With the law

For picking pockets

In College bars

Drunken students were easy prey

Dip and run was his way

The scars on his face

Made him look out of place

I guess that’s why

He often got caught

When he was 13 years old

He held a lit firework

In the palm of his hand

Until it flew into the night

His burnt hand was a sight

Inch was a fearless boy

Once trained as a jockey

Fired after two weeks

For being so cocky

He didn’t care

He gave us tips

On horses and courses

Sometimes we won

Inch was a lot of fun

Immune to pain

When he was 17 he moved away….

Or went to jail again.

©JMN2022