Heist (an acrostic poem)

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How many souls could she steal before the moon reached full?

Each one a jewel in her crown as a master thief

It was why she found herself in this pub drinking a warm beer

So many people here she could work her trade upon

The only problem they all had already had their souls stolen by their job, sport, or vice

Thief (an acrostic poem)

 

The desire to have it was overwhelming

He could feel his palms itch with anticipation

It would be so easy to just palm it right now

Everyone would be clueless, but what fun would that be

For if he waited till tonight, then it would be a challenge

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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