A man of five foot ten
Olive green head to toe
Akin to a backpacker
Of a snowy mountain or so
A face shifty and in flight
He darted through the dark night
Weaving through the streets
With a handbag studded cream
Rummaging in the alley
Walking really fast
God is watching him
Karma’ll glaze her rath
Sweep over this shadow
Who somehow lost his way
I prey he finds the light
And the girl is ok