Thief Poem by Pijush Biswas

This holy mind is too heavy to be born
Knows little about aftermath
Nothing but all he hath
Witty, although outworn.

People wander upon clamorous wing
On market or circling courtyard
And all dear things they discard
Believing on that deceitful being.

But all in vain
They become his prey
And he does equally lay
To be everyone's disdain.

But when is he caught
Everyone's wrath grows high
And ten sticks nigh
Are used to beat him lot.

Then he confesses his guilt
Not to be beaten but loved one.
And he moans alone
To say, 'It never will be'.