I never chose to be a thief
But rather it chose me
I had to steal to keep us fed
I could not pay a fee
The forty thieves they taught me well
On how to use my looks
To steal from all department stores
To falsify the books
I made a pretty penny by
Pinching from the wealthy
And though some people called me crazed
My mind was rather healthy
I never killed a single soul
I never hurt a girl
No, I was in it for the coin
In it for the whirl
When I died in ninety-two
The funeral was grand
Flowers spelled out "Gone Shopping"
The devil lent his hand
For that's the kind of place for me
Forever made of stores
Lined with pretty dresses and
Uncountable sales floors
And if that type of life is found
Only inside hell
Someone tell the devil please
I've come to ring his bell
YOU ARE READING
Wicked Women
PoetryWicked Women is a collection of poems written from the eyes of history's most maligned and hated women. This collection explores what motivated these "evil" women to commit murders, robberies, and other infamous crimes and offers a glimpse beyond th...
