There is a criminal in the city,
A dreaded master thief,
Not afraid to hunt in the daylight,
Clad in black,
And with a scarlet cloth around his neck,
He creeps in brand new brogues.

Hunting house to house,
Man or woman,
Rich or poor,
Young or venerable,
Homeless or sheltered,
He cares not,
For he views all wealth as his own.

Payslips,
Bank accounts,
Wallets,
Hidden stashes,
They all belong to him,
For he is the master thief,
He owns the bank.

Masterthief

Comments
  1. Osharlequin says:

    Reblogged this on WorldofHarley and commented:

    The Master Thief

  2. […] The Master Thief – A slightly satirical look at capitalism. The Stranger – A silly little poem about wandering at night. I’m Not Atlas – A poem about not feeling strong enough. Cannibal Heart – A dark poem about a cannibal, or perhaps a lover. Video Games – Simply applying video games and puns to life. A bloody legacy – Part 1 of a “trilogy” of sorts. Festival Of Blood – Part 2. Cerberus – Part 3. The Painted Man – A story of a man shaped by society. […]

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