The Robber Poem by winifred thorpe

Put up your hands the robber said
as he pulled the old lady out of her bed,

Where's your money? and your gold, you have a lot I am told,
Take the lot, here's my rings after all they are only! things,

Please don't hurt me, I'm very frail yes, '
said the robber your looking pale.'

keep your rings I an sorry I came,
sorry I coursed you such sorry and pain.'

Send for the police, I will give myself in,
after all I've committed a sin, '

! No said the woman, go on your way,
Just promise me this, that you will pray,
and ask god to forgive you,
For what you have done,
and I will pray for you my son.