My home houses countless couches.
Klepto-couches with pickpocket pouches
That swiftly swipe your cellular phone
Between the cushions of their comfy unknown.
Then your change jingles and jangles
Until they’re untangled
From your Wrangler jeans pocket
As you wonder where your socks went.
But your socks and shoes
Were swept under your feet
Right under your nose.
So discreet are these deceitful seats
As they watch you search
For the keys they stole.
At last your quest
Leads you straight to the crook.
“I should have guessed
The klepto-couches had took!”
But still your lesson
Has yet to be learned.
Deserve to be burned.