Let me begin by being frank- you will not like me.
You don't like me now, and I can guarantee by the time we're done,
you won't like me a great deal more.
The thieves are envious and the ladies repelled, they do not like me.
I do not blame them though, do you know who I am?
For those of you who have not guessed why my hands are entwined with this metal,
I think you'll find it quite pleasurable in knowing that I am, in fact, a murderer.
I confess what I did, it's no secret,
and I'm quite proud of the fact that I'm here and minutes from my release.
I wasn't always like this you know, I used to be a poet.
I had a life of my own, with a family of my own.
Sympathetic? Don't be.
His name was John, John Grey.
The very thought of it rolling off my tongue makes me sick.
'He's a man of dignity' they said. 'A loyal, honest man.'
Though did they know his eyes were glistening with green.
He envied me. He wanted to bring me down
and so he did.
He was the Earl of Mancheste
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