Insomnia drips, then floods,
stealing your dreams,
like someone building dams,
diminishing rivers to streams.

Hangovers steal the nights,
that you wish weren't quite over,
pummeling your head with pain
as you wake up slightly sober.

Pretty girls flood in and flood out,  
stealing your thoughts as they travel,
revealing the mystique
that you were too quick to unravel.

The grunge street people lower their eyes,
as you steal a glance.
What you don't realize your stealing is their pride,
as you stride by in your iron pressed pants.

The night steals the day,
in a colorful sunset.
Only to let the sun rise up once again
as if filled with regret.