Oswald Ghoul, more than a bit of a fool,
Was working in a store when he left school.
Very quickly he decided it a bore,
To be everyday, working in a store.
In fact, he had a negative attitude,
To the very word “work”. Just no gratitude.
And so, when he realized he had not a dime
He determined he’d follow a life of crime.
“Crime Pays,” thought he, as he imagined the loot,
That he could amass by being a brute.
He might have to work at nights,
But he imagined the huge delights,
Of having everyday free to laze,
Of not being constantly under a bosses gaze.

He first tried to be cat a burglar
Climbing stealthily up a pergola.
But “fences” were not interested in cats,
Even if good at dismembering rats.
The fence said, “Please don’t take offence,
But there is already a cat on almost every fence.”
Oswald, discouraged, decided to be a car thief.
He wanted to do it big time. Be the thief-in-chief.
But after smashing the window on a car,
He realized he couldn’t drive, not near, not far.
“So back to the drawing board, I’m afraid,”
“I’m certainly not a natural, not self-made.”

“Smash and Grab Robbery, that’s for me,”
So said Oswald as he had his tea.
“I can smash a shop window and grab”,
“Whatever is in there. I’ll take a stab.”
“But only high value targets would have any worth.”
“I’ll have to be selective in choosing my turf.”
And so, down High St, he determinedly went,
Looking for a suitable window to be bent.
Or, this is to say, smashed with a brick,
Yes, he would employ the brick throwing trick.
It didn’t take long until he was at the door,
Of a very up-market Jewellery Store,
Oswald now took a brick out of his burglar bag,
He had bought it from a retired, former lag.
He stood back, aimed, and threw it to crack,
The brick struck the window and bounced right back.
The window was armour-plated of course,
And Oswald’s brick didn’t have enough force.
But whilst the display window it didn’t break,
Enough force was there for the alarm to make,
A resounding cacophony fit to alert,
A passing copper ready to assert,
His authority over a breaker of law,
Oswald saw this, it stuck in his craw.
And so it was, he was off at a pace,
The copper pursuing. A very fast race.

“I could go and hold up a bank!”
So said Oswald at his own think tank.
“Not a big branch, a smaller to start,”
“Until I have sufficiently refined the art.”
And so he went to a small branch, of the PEOPLE’S EXTORTER.
Casing the joint as he’d read he ought to.
Came the day for the deed, Oswald did heed,
His clever disguise he’d clearly need.
Shades, wig and a false moustache,
He wanted to do this with style and panache.
Entering the bank with a certain bold air.
He sauntered up to the teller, as if with no care.
“This is a hold-up,” he did firmly state.
“In the annals of time they’ll remember this date.”
“Put all your money in this canvas bag”,
“While you do this, I’ll nonchalantly light up a fag.”
But what Oswald should have known well,
Was that the teller had pressed the emergency bell.
Sirens soon punctuated the calm,
As police responded to this alarm,
Oswald, thinking by default,
“Quickly, let me hide in your vault!”
And that is precisely what he did.
The coppers arrested him, counting the quid.
Clearly, Oswald was not suited for a life of crime.
He pondered thus, as he was serving his time.