Stolen Pencil
Stolen pencil, this poets utensil.
A tax refunded bit of loot.
When I was younger, I wouldn't have given a hoot.
Just how pathetic can one soul be?
Can't even afford a sliver of a tree.
Well if redemption can be written.
This is my offing that I'm remittn'.
It raises questions of what to do.
Degrees of sin in me and you.
I clip my nails in a stolen ashtray.
I've done it for years, what more can I say.
Repudiation for such a minor act.
No one spends much time on such thoughtless tact.
Pay it forward and steal it blind.
Just a little guilt to ease the mind.
Copyright © Robert Johnson | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment