Where’s The Thief? Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Here is a mystery of who done it.
The toil of many hours has disappeared.
My mind has vanished; who is the culprit?
Written words so dear were commandeered.

I swear there is a computer gremlin lurking.
Sitting quietly, waiting to snatch and laugh.
With his arms folded, satisfyingly smirking.
Where are the hidden cameras to photograph?

Am I the only person who has lost their composure?
Upon discovering that an empty space is remaining.
There are no fingerprints or ransom note disclosures.
The little thief must be overjoyed with my paining.

I wonder, has this ever happened to anyone else?
Stomp your feet if you have experienced such a plunder.
I am listening. Hello… am I sitting here all by myself?
What’s that I hear? Is it the sound of thunder?


(7/1/07)