The Jam

Oh come now friends, new countrymen,
Lend ears to my preamble,
Concerning sylvan fugitives
That lurk within the bramble.

**Spoiler alert** for those that care,
This account is rather short;
The gang weren’t on the run for long,
In fall they all were caught.

They got jammed up at their last job,
Their bodies black and blue;
No razzmatazz, no last hurrah,
This berry band were through.

Now you can whine, you may want more,
But that’s the story told;
The forest fruits are now in jars
Worth twice their weight in gold.

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