Sky Apr 2015

you&i; somewhere, first time
to see each other.
you're a stranger
at first
and maybe forever,
yet you are my typical
type of heart stealer.
but that was the first
and last time we'd
see each other.
i'm thinking of you
come to my dreams and
give me your number.
then i'll beg you on text
to meet me,
soon again,
for the second and
more times.
i'll wait for you,
in my dreams,
i will really wait.

I much admire, I must admit,
The man who robs a Bank;
It takes a lot of guts and grit,
For lack of which I thank
The gods: a chap 'twould make of me
You wouldn't ask to tea.

I do not mean a burglar cove
Who climbs into a house,
From room to room flash-lit to rove
As quiet as a mouse;
Ah no, in Crime he cannot rank
With him who robs a Bank.

Who seemeth not to care a whoop
For danger at its height;
Who handles what is known as 'soup,'
And dandles dynamite:
Unto a bloke who can do that
I doff my bowler hat.

I think he is the kind of stuff
To be a mighty man
In battlefield,--aye, brave enough
The Cross Victorian
To win and rise to high command,
A hero in the land.

What General with all his swank
Has guts enough to rob a Bank!

Effy Royle Jun 2014

the robber sneaks into
my space of illuminating
sadness
trying to piece together
the things that make me
tick
soon enough he thinks
he has it figured out
placing screws in the abyss,
knowing that if I tock he did
something
wrong
i want to tell him that
nothing will work
no matter how hard
he tries
my hands are broken and nothing
will ever
make them tick again
as much as they can try
as much as i'm already turning my
cogs to start again
the robber takes my broken hands
but just for a bit
"let me borrow them" he says
when he brings them back they are
rusty and used
i want to tell him that it hurts to tick,
how just because i was condoning
the robbing; i wasn't accepting it.
but i don't say a word
i just croak a broken tock
and let him rob me
all over again

this wasn't supposed to be a rape oriented poem, but that's how it turned out. idk, there's a sequel as well.
Clarice Alvarez Jun 2014

'Hands off,' says the bag of cash to the robber.
Or, wishes it could have said,
Because it was an inanimate object,
While the robber was not.
The bag of cash was just a cotton satchel
While the robber was all flesh and blood.

'Where are you taking me?' the bag of cash silently wails.
It doesn't see the light of day
When the robber stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Alone, the bag of cash occasionally jumps up in the darkness
As the robber's sidekick -- his car
Rushes him to an alien place.

'I have been forsaken,' the bag of cash mopes.
Once the robber takes it out,
The bag of cash will have to die.
It cannot imagine the horrifying thought
Of the robber slitting him open.
Its organs -- the wads of cash -- will all spill out in a puddle.
What did the bag of cash deserve
To meet with such terrible fate?

But the bag of cash hears a gunshot
Once, twice, and thrice.
And a flicker of hope lights up within it.
It sees the light of day again as the trunk opens
And, to its delight, sees the robber
Cuffed by the wrist and wearing a scowl.

'I can go home now,' thinks the bag of cash,
As the police officer takes it into his arms.
And once it's home, back in the vault
It can relay the frightening experience
To other bags of cash, bursting with paper bills and eagerness.

A little something I brewed up while I was DMing some of my friends last night. I kind of like this work a lot, to be honest.
Kunal Kar Dec 2015

The alcohol has set in,
The jazz has lighten the mind,
With the wine rushing,
The rays of that far end memory.
The Beatles were on the old tapes,
While the old man reached his deck,
Brought out an crystal glass,
A drink was poured and served,
As the hands rose to her brown hair,
Shades of a beautiful lady poured up,
Eyes dimming with the black,
Yet clinging at her face.
She seemed hot in her sadness robe,
While her hair played to the song,
A sundress night on a cloudy sky,
For she was the robber,
That robbed me of my security,
With a dagger of hope and life.
Tuned to this lost night affair,
I laid my heart and eyes on the tables,
Rowed the boat to her,
Stood beside with a smile,
She was crying goodbyes to her past.
Then we talked through difficult times,
Shared a shy smile,
Like a beautiful song,
I turned and we touched our drunk lips,
She leaned and this hands hugged her,
Lost in that classy moment,
The time ceased and the tapes played,
A lost love song.

you broke into my home
searching for anything that can be
easily grabbed
you got a hold of my heart
stole it and just as easy as it was to get
was how easy you ran away with it
i never got a hold of your precious face
you just kept on running
because you kept that mask on

even when i got a hold of you heart as well

j.f

Alivia Evans Feb 2016

How could you trace your steps forward
when you're flipped inside your sweater
How dare you slur your lines
and smudge the ink into reds
     Live because you're monitored
     Live, they claim you brain dead
            Your birth was a robbery
            So you left here to go next door

            and she was a psycho

Madeysin Mar 2015

You can render me speechless,
But never wordless,
There was always lust behind your tongue,
I've never been kissed be a true lover,
I guess I'm not stable, I guess I'm not stable,

Fade out scene two
Enter beautiful boy

He said, do you know girl you'd be gorgeous,if.
You'd stop and look in the mirror, you've gained ten pounds since the last time I've seen you, your smile is so loud it hurts, baby girl please shut up, all you do is talk but your words are dust,  those shoes you wear, so many holes, when it rains your feet are like the sea, is that the necklace we found on the beach around your neck? Tackey aren't you,

Zoom out scene three,
Bird eye view of boy,

He screamed are you crazy girl why did you have to know me? If you wouldn't have, you be alive right now hopefully. He laughed through his tears, the mockery and the jeers, nothing would bring his girl back. He whispered I'll use your head stone as a pillow, this grave, a bed for two.

Ozioma Ogbaji Jun 2015

Yet again, I got robbed
There was no smoking gun or sharp-cutting knife
But still I got robbed
And this unarmed robber spared my life
As always.

He spared my life so I could feel the trauma
He spared my life cos he enjoyed my beat-yourself-up drama
I always put on a show after each soul-crushing robbery
How does he get away with robbing me without any form of thuggery?
Always.

Next time, I will kick him in the groin
I will look him in the eye and say his name.
You will not rob me of another precious coin!
You evil thief who loves to tear, break and maim!

And even when I feel him approaching in the dark
I will scare him away with a light that knows no fright
I will imprint on his face an indelible mark
To remind him of the last time he tried to rob me of my light

I will say to him loud and clear,
You will not rob me ever again
Yes, you will not rob me again
You evil unarmed robber called FEAR

Of fear and overcoming fear
Jonny Angel May 2015

O Sweet Thief,
let's play
our fun game of
cop and robber.
So Miss Crook,
stand up straight there,
face against the wall
and spread 'em
wide.
I'm going to frisk
you deeply,
ever so slowly
for my heart,
the one you stole,
have hidden inside.

A rotten thief was at work last night
He stole thirty sheep from Mr Wright
He wasn't aware of the thievery
He had his head on a pillow's livery

There he snored till nine o'clock
After he arose he went to check his flock
He noted that thirty sheep had gone astray
To whit he called the police in an urgent splay

The local constable came in a hurry
To investigate as to why the sheep did scurry
He detected a tyre indent on the muddy track
It bore a pattern akin to a badly stitched sack

His instincts told him who did the stealing
It was the fellow who jumped out of Mrs Ray's ceiling
With the crime solved he bade Mr Wright good day
To pursue the robber who'd got away

Tommy Jackson May 2016

Zipped through the laser in her sleep
I tip toed, she didint know, like a girl
Fast she was so sweet. no peep, no not
Scurry. At dark Eve I couldn't see the
Milk and cookies I was for;in a hurry.
I didint worry, just made my getaway
When it was her cookies, I chowed in
The night, stashed by day, bad husband.

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