The Thief In this day of moral degradation, it is hard to find a soul that is gentle enough to tip his hat and who isn’t strange and cold. I thought I met a man with a kind and chivalric style, for when we bumped on the street he said so meekly with a smile, "Please excuse me, Miss. Oh, forgive me, Miss for bein’ such a villain, as to bump into such a beautiful lassy and all her belongin’s spillin’" My handbag spilled and lost its innards to the sidewalk’s concrete top, and the dear man felt so badly that he bowed down and picked those innards up. When nothing more on the sidewalk did I see, and my handbag looked appropriately stuffed, I thanked the man to get on my way, and assured him that he was kindly enough. I flagged a cab in the street. The cabby pulled up to my home. He turned around and said, "Fifteen bucks is what ya owe me." Was I ever so wrong about that strange man; he was not chivalric and kind, for when I looked into my handbag, no money did I find. Copyright 2000, Cindy L. Holleman
Reason for writing:
My first impressions are often so wrong, that I decided to write this short rhyme to remind myself and others that people can be so charming, with hidden agendas
Birth sign: Sagittarius
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