Midnight Marauder He stole into the darkened room, a thief who made no sound. His nervous glances told him that nobody was around. He foraged in the kitchen shelves, his hunger gave him pain. He ate whatever he could find; brown sugar, rice, and grain. When he had had enough to eat he rested, quite content. An outcast raised in plundering, a life he'd not lament. He'd learned to pilfer very young, his peers were all the same. They stole from honest people's homes, all thieves who had no shame. He heard the footsteps much too late as light spread through the house. He knew his spree was over when he heard, "Joe!! There's a mouse!"
