The Burglar




Sir, oh, Sir, call my name the Misery.
For I only have a single old can,
to wait for you tickle it with a penny
simply to show me that you’re gentleman.
Sir, oh, Sir, call my name Honesty.
For I’ve tasted salty, dusty breads and
cups of withered, bitter coffee and tea,
sleep under black sky and above white sand,
without stole them secret from your pocket.
Sir, no, Sir, don’t call my name the Hopeless.
For I’ve always seen the Fortune bucket
down on my upcoming future fortress.
Sir, though I have nothing to beam my life,
yet I own a big dream to gleam my life.

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