He was a thief in the night, they say.
Sometimes he was one by day.
Such a tall and elegant man,
It was difficult to see how he stole and ran.
Eighteen years old, a young man sent to prison,
At thirty, my how he had risen.
In a world of scams and shams,
He was shrewd enough not to get into jams.
It was obvious that he had good taste,
By the alpaca sweaters stolen in haste.
Shopping Centers were his pastime,
Jewelry stores, and then the crime.
Through the door, into the mall,
Run to the car, don't take a fall.
Heartbeat fast, adrenaline flowing,
Diamond in hand, time to be going. |
