OJ Simpson poem
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I did not kill my lovely wife.
I did not slash her with a knife.
I did not bonk her on the head.
I did not know that she was dead.
I stayed at home that fateful night.
I took a cab, then took a flight.
The bag I had was just for ME.
My bag! My bag! Hey, leave it be!
When I came home I had a gash.
My hand was cut from broken glass.
I cut my hand on broken glass.
A broken glass did cause that gash.
My friend, he took me for a ride.
All through LA from side to side.
From north to south, we took a ride.
But from the cops we could not hide.
My trial lasted for a year.
A year! A year! just sitting here!
The DNA, the Hem the HAW.
The circus-hype the viewers saw.
A year! A year! Just sitting here.
And lawyers charge by the hour I fear!
If I'm found guilty I will appeal!
Appeal! Appeal! I will Appeal!
I'll wheedle and whine - I'll cut a deal!
If it's 'not guilty' so glad I'll feel
Did you do this awful crime?
Did you do this anytime?
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
Did you take this person's life?
Did you do it with a knife?
I did not do it with a knife.
I did not, could not, kill my wife.
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
Did you hit her from above?
Did you drop this bloody glove?
I did not hit her from above.
I cannot even WEAR that glove
I did not do it with a knife.
I did not, could not, kill my wife.
I did not do this awful crime.
I could not, would not, anytime.
And now I'm free, I can return
To my house for which I yearn.
And to my family whom I love.
Hey now I'm free - give back my glove!!
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