Pickpocket

-Pickpocket-
by Keaton Foster



Slip
The hand
Steal
The man
Take
Never give
Always
It must be
Never
Does it seem
Right
Has no place
Survival
A god unto itself
People
Like you and me
Do
As we must
Act
As required
Having
What is needed
Owning
A real chance
Taking
From those greater
Thieving
Things so required
Never
Could we be redeemed
Pickpocket
The victims call us
The fittest
We prefer to be known as
Sin
Our stone to carry
Blasphemy
Our cry to rally
Double
Is the blade wielded
Prison
Not for our bodies
But rather
Our inescapable souls
God
The one so cruel
Our father
Leaving many bastards
The savior
Of those who are asking
Such reciprocal questions
Not any of us
We
Those so skilled
Pickpockets
Thieves
Doing as we must
Stealing
Taking what we want
Robbing
Such unsuspecting victims
They
The victims
Those oddly fortunate
Wanna believe
Live to feel
As if everyone is good
Both righteous
And right
When in fact
That is what we
And dare I say
Many of them
Are least of all
The difference is
And will always be
That we know it
Pickpockets
Slip
The hand
Steal
The man
Take
Never give
Always
It must be
Never
Does it seem
Right
Has no place
Survival
A god unto itself
We
The thieves
And the victims
The having
And the surviving
Willingly
And unknowingly
Are doing
What must be done
Pickpocket
We’ll steal everything
In the name of our
Very own something…


Pickpocket
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.