Grin

They let him out of
The nuthouse to
Go for a walk.
He didn't argue,
He didn't squawk.
It gave him time to
Think about his crime;
When he used to drink,
And dribble gin
Down his chin,
He got mad and
Killed his kin.
That's his sin;
That's why they
Put him in.
But even today,
It still gives him
A little grin.