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Common thief
Her eyes covered in darkness
A rusty knife held to her throat.
'Now hand me over your money
Right down to your last groat,
Your money and no fuss'
As he steals her bag
To top up his mobile phone
Or cheap drugs for his slag.
At seventy years old
A chance she doesn't stand
Though she gives a struggle
And fights with her bare hands.
He's got what he needs and off he runs~
Got away with f****** murder
Her family and friends saying
'Who on earth would want to hurt her?'
For a measly few pounds.
Some treasured possessions
Trod into the ground.
The knife in the grass
With specks of her blood,
As she tries to reach home
And claws her way through the mud.
And all of her life
She's worked for her pension
And all he gets
Is two months detention.
While the police uncover
Her used pension book.
Society has given birth
To another common crook.
Linda Lawrence
18th October 2004