Big Grief For the Petty Thief
If you long for a licking thrash,
Then, touch a guy's earned cash:
A move ingloriously rash!
And you shall equally clinch a has:
On either cheek a… finishing gash!
The nearest thing to A Trash
Is eyeing someone’s cash,
To it in some bank stash…
Teeth shall ceaselessly gnash
And cornered one’s future dash;
A name lose in a flash
Or have it mixed up with Ash…
Like it had happened to a Nash
And it wasn’t a little crash.
For the caught Petty thief,
It is still big grief!
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
