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Brent Kincaid Jun 2015
Do you know people
That hate people
For what they are?
Don’t invite those people
Into your car.

Do you know people
That hang with people
That steal from the poor?
Do not vote for such a boor.

Do you know people
That insist other people
Have to worship like them.
Their minds are dim.

Do you have friends
That like to steal?
Show them all
The back of your heels.
Because one thing
Will prove to be true;
They will steal from you.

Do you know folks
Who gossip madly?
Ignore them or
Treat them badly.
Then maybe some day
They will just go away.

Do you know some
Who ignore their kids;
Neglect them every day?
Tell those people off
Somehow, some way.
And if that doesn’t work,
Call the cops on the ****.

Do you know some politicians
Behave like ****** patricians?
Don’t suffer and protect them.
Don’t elect them.
Ostracize them as rotten louts
Then, quickly vote them out!

Do you think you can’t
Make a change that counts?
Find these fools and pounce.
Let them know your mind.
Don’t just sit there blind.
Get mad as hell.
Then rebel!
Reverie Dawson May 2015
She whispers to the stars and birds that live in the night sky
"Take my hand, let me fly with you. Oh please. This tree that I'm standing on can only go so high..." She reaches to touch the sky, but falls short...yet again.
And she is stuck gazing, but never close enough. And is left still trying to fathom, to accept...that she will never be high enough. Her hope leaves, taken by thieves in the night.
RW Dennen Feb 2015
Yes, you out there wherever you may be
You try to steal our souls in poems
We know you, to the tee

What twisted motives to be us, by proxy, what cowardess you be
What an empty vessel posses you, such sadness, such despair
You pick our hard imagined fruit and not from your own tree

You clone our minds, like leaches on our skin
You wish us harm, you thieving ***
You wormy monster, a slug, next to kin

I curse you
I loath you
I hate you
You stealers of our youth
Betrayers of our written souls
What lacks is pride, and owners of the truth
Cheyenne Jan 2015
Love and all its bandits
steal lives
and souls
and hearts.
No discrimination--
Won't tell good or bad apart.
With an arrow at their fingertips,
a bow that's poised to draw;
Love and all its bandits
steal
and give
to all.
Stages and Ages Nov 2014
Something about you makes me weak in the knees
You must be working for the queen of thieves

Something about you doesn't seem right
But I'll grab the apple and take the first bite....
To be continued....
Unsecured mind-set lashes its core, choosing to ally itself to that of no concern or thought. All sequence we shall herald as noble backlash. Blame shall rest with death of the innocent, for this is where excuse can be rectified Or rather that of fraudulent justification laid before another’s feet.

Insight to rise as we rise to insight, no notice shall be given and no action shall not be undertaken. Vandalisms recruitment takes it course. Internet conscription courses silently through hardy flex. Telecommunications providers enlisted to contrive location as we plan Google’s map attack.

The aim is that of procurement, not for freedom or righteousness, rather that of avarice and self contentment. We shall shop till we drop this eve and at much better than discounted prices. Personal retributions shall also conceal themselves beneath this direst of banner.

Filthy alignments will almost with abandonment unite in evil cohesion. Mass attack at fragmented locations will oppress any and all endeavours to quell this foulest of foul. He who hide his face away is free to loot another day, this seems the lyrical trend that thief and sinner does take this night .

Untold expectance by unlawful propagator is of a world that owes, favours him above others. He feels righteous that he should prevail in this life before his fellow man. It is of no concern to him that others may have more worthy an approach. It matters not what they may suffer.

If for no other reason to doubt he who professes to have nothing, to be cast out by the state and therefore be free to invoke retribution, why should he with nought, cast dereliction in his own manor? Why destroy what you have not got? Why condemn yourself to live in an unliveable state?

Such misdemeanour unto ones self is surely call for psychiatric assessment and asylums involvement? Here now stands a creature pursed to explicate erroneous act for appropriate content and expect audience to quell their disgust and rapturously give applause. I think not.

For not only did thievery portray itself on our streets this and other nights that followed, also violence, arson and ****** were carried along with it, like a leaf in the wind. Families lost what they had so long worked and strived to gain, watching helplessly as combustion condemned their habitat to broken ash.

****** drew its breath on more than a single occasion. Is this the result of political unrest, that is what they would want us to pronounce, to show reason that this is against the masses, such excuse may then be strewn as a just intention.

This is not the reality though in this case it is a the likely truth that rat endeavoured to crawl above ground and spread its pox amongst us, infecting devastation on good peoples lives as it did in centuries past.
17th  September 2011
Riq Schwartz Mar 2012
sins of thieves are born
of patience, care, courage, strength
virtues every one
Mary Christopher Jun 2014
The Queen of Hearts
Lives in a castle of broken hopes and dreams
And as she lies on her bed of memories
She has one of her own

She remembers back to the day
Her own heart ran away
It was stolen and never returned

The King of Thieves they say
Was the one to take her heart away

That is why, to this day
The Queen of Hearts
Takes others’
The hearts of others who still have them

If it wasn’t for the King of Thieves
That one summer-turned-fall
With falling leaves
The Queen of Hearts might give her heart away
Instead of taking others’ for prey

But the King of Thieves had his own story to tell
It is one of mystery and dark streets
One of sorrow and relief

He stole the Queen’s heart
To give to his thieves
So that they might one day believe
That this is not how it’s supposed to be.

m.c.c.
I gave you my lips to borrow yet my heart you stole.
Every time we kissed i felt it in my soul.
I gave you my hand to hold, my arms to hug, my eyes to see.
Sunddelny you were part of me.
Like the bark on a tree,
But i remain free.
I cant control this urge inside of me,
Yet why would i want to.
Im where i want to be.
Or so i thought...
Love cant be bought
You left me in the dirt and my heart took its toll,
I cry inside my broken
soul.
Will i love again
Will i live once more.
Will i feel the feeling of open arms and an open door.
Will my heart ever really soar.
I know not but i wont give up.
Theres many thieves among us,
One will one day fill my cup
Theres another who can steal me,
Ill once again be where i want to be
Kyle Kulseth May 2014
Our old uncle, Daedalus,
     he'd grin when he spoke to us
His mouth was missing teeth
and so his wisdom flowed out free
He always smelled of cheap cigars
     alleyways and corner bars
He'd tell us he had seen the world
     and this was his decree:

     "Don't fly too high, you little *****.
       You just might live to pay for it.
       The Sun is always hot,
       the ground gets harder every day."

"But, Daedalus," we would complain,
"You are old and we would fain
see the sights you saw before
          we sleep beneath the clay."

And dear old Uncle Daedalus
     he'd laugh and spit and swear at us
"You ******* little ***** had better
heed the tale I tell.
This life is one big ******* maze
with twists and turns and tricks to play.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."

We'd try to listen, try to thank
him for the words, but his breath stank
and, anyway, we thought that he
               had prob'ly **** himself

But dear old Uncle Daedalus
hung Death from lips that spoke to us
and ****** if he weren't right
about the things he always said:
"Inventiveness works, by and by
with daring, you may taunt the sky
                                   like I did
                                  but the fall is long--
my dreams and son are dead."

He always smelled of cheap cigars
     alleyways and corner bars
"You ******* little ***** had better
heed the tale I tell..."

"Don't fly too high, you little *****.
You just might live to pay for it.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."
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