A thief bored a hole
in the wall of a bank,
right into the safe.
He disabled the alarm,
made the perfect heist,
got away without detection,
went out into the world
to enjoy his labor's fruits.
For years he dissipated himself,
pursuing exotic pleasures,
but finally had to admit
that the faster he chased them,
the more he felt like a pauper,
all his wealth notwithstanding.
At last he gave up,
fleeing desperately into the jungle,
sat himself under a tree
and began there to reconnoiter
the Treasure within him.
For years he chipped away
at its vault, till at last one day,
he struck pay dirt.
He penetrated the real Fort Knox.
The Fountain of Love overflowed
and he basked in its riches.
He himself became a Treasury,
giving generously to all
who came to where he sat
naked under his tree
till the end of his days on earth.
Max Reif
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-thief/
