Maggie C Donnelly

Urban Thief

I make my money and earn my crust
By breaking the law for the dollars lust

You call me scum, a thieving rat
But am I different to the Bankers that

Steal your stash to feather their nest
Then make you pay to clear up their mess

Haw Haw they huff, let's defraud defraud
Subserve the minions - whilst we hoard

The Old Boys Club is really impinged
With public school a la floppy fringe

They wink their way in to a highly paid job
And without a mask commence to rob

The powerless public of money well earned
Under the premise of knowledge learned

From father to son - a passed down skill
To pillage the poor - diminish their will

And so it goes on, 'till a story breaks
That they want more tax on all that you make

To pay for them that have messed up so much
Again, it's solved with a common 'touch'

So call me a thief, call me a rat
But am I different to the Bankers that.....

Poem Submitted: Sunday, December 1, 2013
Poem Edited: Friday, December 6, 2013

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