MusingsPoetry

A Thief is a Thief

When the day is bright,
when the odds are right,
when there is bounty in sight,
then a thief will put up a fight.

Who is a thief?
the one who steals with a gun?
Or the one that cheats for fun?
Or the one that snatches and runs?

He is an opportunist
taking advantage of time.
He is an artist
taking the center stage of crime.
He is an activist
taking from the rich and giving to those without a dime.
He is an idealist
living his dreams in his prime.

He is death,
taking what he never created.
He is ill health,
making the body to feel cheated.
He is more wealth,
making the mind to feel defeated.
He is little hate,
making love to give up retreated.

A thief is a thief
whether he is a chief.
He is the bringer of grief
in the midst of quiet and relief.

But men become his vessels
to carry out his plans.
Even the one called thief is a victim of the thief,
because his mind is lost in a trance.

After the act, he knows he is wrong.
Even his dead conscience
struggles with regret and remorse,
But he is a vessel
so he’ll go back to act again strong.

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