Polite Bank Robber

THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.

When I rob banks, the tellers panic with fright.

But I'm not a mean thief, I'm always polite.

When I demand money from the tellers, I always say please.

So far I'm a crook that the Police haven't been able to seize.

One bank teller was a man who wore a wig and a dress, he was a Transvestite.

The jerk severed my pinky finger when he grabbed my hand and gave it a bite.

I was way too polite to shoot him for it.

I grabbed my finger and as I drove to the hospital, I decided to floor it.

Right now I'm in Kansas and I'm robbing a bank in the town of Wichita.

The Cops just walked in, I'm finally going to be apprehended by the Law.

I'm so polite that I've never been able to be tough.

I'm crying like a baby as the Cops slap on the cuffs.

Reviews

[D.L]

ahahah i throughly enjoyed this. It kinda reminds me of the book "The Hundred Year Old Man Who Climbed Out The Window and Disappeared" for some reason. The unseemly criminal aspect maybe. Anywho, it's a fun poem and made me laugh. So thank you for that. :)