The Robber

I am a robber of sorts you see, A line stolen here, A phrase snatched there, A whole world that glowers before me. Some want me to die, Some want to see me suffer in vain. But little do they know, I say goodnight to pain. It’s hard to have everything robbed from you, Be robbed of what you call life, And not want to steal, All that’s dear to thine. I am a robber, I am not proud of my name, But what else do I have, To give to my bloodstained grave?