HEIST

The heist was planned with precision,

A team of thieves with a clear vision.

They scouted the bank for weeks on end,

To find the weaknesses they could befriend.

The night was dark and the moon was full,

As they made their move, they were cool.

They broke in quietly, without a sound,

Their goal in sight, they were bound.

They worked in silence, with steady hands,

Cracking safes and looting lands.

They filled their bags with cash and gold,

Their hearts beating fast, their story untold.

As they made their escape in the night,

They knew their success was a sight.

But as they looked back at the scene,

They knew that their actions were mean.

For in the end, what did they gain?

A life of crime, with endless pain.

For though they had riches in their hands,

Their souls were empty, their future was bland.

So if you're tempted to join the game,

Think of the heist and all its shame.

For though the thrill may be high,

The price you pay is the sky.

Note: The above poem is a fictional story, and I do not condone or support criminal activities, including heist.

THANK YOU..!