The Thief - Poem by Mark Normand
In the wild I roam with fear, so
threatened by my guilt.
Not so much by what I see, I go
by what is felt.
The bushes and the trees conceal
the eyes forever watching.
The cameras in the ceiling and the
walls are cyber stalking.
But still I try, I don't know why, even
though I'll go to jail.
I have to steal, it's the only way I can
make some cash for bail.
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