The Little Heist

I watched a child lift a candy bar,

a rush in their eyes, the thrill from afar.

My fingers itched, I felt the spark,

that quiet delight in the shadowy dark.

The crinkle of wrappers, a sweet little sin,

that tiny transgression, a warm rush within.

With pockets unbothered, no guilt on my face,

it’s in the small things we find our own grace.