Pickpocket (an acrostic poem)

Passerby contribute to my well being

It warms the cockles of my sooty heart

Catching wild wallets, harvesting random rings

Keeping the richest, releasing the too poor

People might think I’m a thief

Only they couldn’t be farther from the truth

Culling the slow and the dull from their possessions

Karma dictates I do my part for the universe

Entrusting me to mete out cosmic balance

To add to my bank balance

 

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