The Thief’s Curse

There once was a man
From the town of Not
Who owned a bit of land,
A quite pathetic plot

He looked to improve
His stock and store,
No money to move,
And that cut to his core

This man always spied
On his neighbors across
The road so often he cried,
He felt hopelessly lost

There once came a day,
Winds blowing and howling,
A paper tumbled away
Like a cornered mouse cowering

It skittered and scattered
All throughout town
It was withered and tattered
Nobody would stoop down

Except for the man,
So troubled in heart,
He picked up in his hand
The paper, nearly torn apart

It was a deed to a house
Much larger than owned
And did well to douse
His complains and moans

There was no name listed
It was a strange bit of luck
The man could be arrested
He didn’t give a hoot

He became what he thought
That he should have been
Despite what his mother had taught
When he was only ten

“Don’t steal people’s things,”
She would say after church
“A sin like that brings
Some curse to besmirch.”

Well Mother never said
Anything about taking a name
At least according to what he read,
They might as well be one and the same

He signed the deed with ink
Hastily scrawled in black
The man barely had time to think,
There was no turning back

He packed all of his belongings
And settled into his new estate
Without acknowledging his wrongings
But it appeared to be too late

Upon his sudden arrival
The house it groaned and creaked
After years of lonely survival
It appeared the man had peaked

A body was found under the floor
The man was quite appalled
A ghastly shadow appeared in the door
And for this tale, that is all.

Such is the end for the man from Not
He had no last breath or parting word,
But if he were around for another shot
Would he do it again? Well, that’s just absurd.

Advertisements