Poem -

The Man Who Stole My Still

The Man Who Stole My Still

I tortured a man and it gave me pleasure to hear him holler and squeal.
He sounded just like a pig and he sure has paid for stealing my still.
When I made moonshine, I earned seventy-five thousand each year.
My dad built the still that was stolen and losing it drove me to tears.
When I tortured that punk, he was in a bad shape.
I tortured that bastard but he managed to escape.
That damn crook took the bread out of my mouth because of his theft.
But my still was found on his property and he was arrested by the ATF.
The man who stole my still was dumb and as big as an ape.
He lied when he was arrested, he said he had been raped.
That man thought he'd make a lot of money because of the moonshine he would sell.
Now he's squealing like a pig again because he was sentenced to fifteen years in jail.

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