The store-room was locked away
Far from eyes that would stray
It wasn't in an out of way place
In the basement without a face
And he was a librarian there
Cataloguing and filing with care
He liked his work and the life he had
Until his wife's health became bad
To get the badly needed treatment for her
This was the opening that occurred
For traders in rare and valuable things
They wanted moon rock for their collecting
So they contacted him to get it done
And they would pay for the treatment won
On his next night shift he went to location
Finding the box with the moon rock allocation
He replaced the sample with another sealed rock
And the sealed moon rock was wrapped in a lot
This happened quickly and he returned to his desk
At the end of his shift and he went home with the rest
The moon rock was delivered as the real deal
And he got the money for his wife's treatment pill
Later that day in mansion a butler was buzzed
He walked to the study and what he found he judged
Backing away from the scene with amazed eyes
The master of the house was dead with a look of surprise
Opened of the desk was a box with the moon rocks around
And as the butler touched the rocks he fell to the ground.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Never recovered, probably because as you suggest, it was kyrptonite! the moon holds many secrets. You should never steal them. A wonderful story based on reality