I bear my great gleaming smile,
Pretty straight pearls glistening.
Entrancing and trusting,
With kind doe-like eyes.
Un-suspicious and childlike,
My second self hides behind
Our happy mask, cunning and deceitful.
Naughty plans she drafts sneakily.
Our normal walk past the shops,
Into the chemist waiting for Nan
To pick up her prescription.
My eyes radar-like scanning.
Targeting my favourite aisle,
I pretend to admire the pretty gloss,
Pastel powders and baby blush.
Crouching down swivelling school bag open.
I take a shiny piece to look at,
A second container slid behind my finger.
Tink. Down it drops into my bag followed by
A dozen more tinkling drops that gorge my bag.
Happily relieved I skip all the way home,
Rushing up to my bedroom.
Magically spreading out the collected treasure,
A guilty pleasure that has eased an itch.
Every week my collection piles,
And no one suspects a thing.
With every finger grab my heart turns to ice,
Then melts away with quick relief.
I'm the prettiest girl in class now,
With my glowing eyes and cheeks.
My glossy treasures tucked away,
An addiction of finger tingling buds from within.
For years to come the treasures,
Become bigger and prettier.
Smug and content I know I can't be caught,
For I am the good girl who is unbeknown.
There are times that I do feel guilty,
And wish that I could stop my stealing hands.
But then I’d have no treasures and surely my thrill would end,
So for now whilst I’m young I'll continue my tinkling game.