January 4, 2012

Thief

He walks by my side,
or rather, just ahead,
almost within my sight,
I sense him there
with a certain dread.
They say
he is not kind,
in the end will rob me blind,
taking all I own,
nothing left behind.
Waiting on no one,
he is always there,
loyal to a fault,
himself without a care.
I can easily see his work,
watching me
in the mirror.