When I have to press four times to type an “S”

Last week, I got snatched. My iPhone is taken.

My precious,

black and rectangle

not owned by many people

quite heavy for it’s kind

hardly believe it was mine

so shiny and glassy

and a little bit pricey

it exhaust my feet

to work to get it

so easy to use

that no one can’t refuse

so useful you were

now taken by snatcher

it was a Sunday morning

me and my friend were walking

through the crowds of man and load

through stalls in a side of road

snatcher got its prey

“pull it off”, they say

they take it from my pocket

front side of my yellow jacket

when they take it from mine

i was feeling so blind

then i chase them by running

but i only found nothing

couldn’t find those bastard

i felt such a retard

i stood and felt so stuck

really want to scream, fuck

my mind was trembling

i saw around crumbling

people say he was notorious

for his action that make me furious

a morning full of sorrow

something in me was hollow

i had to let it go

but not easy to do so

no money to buy a new one

so i have to borrow from someone

it’s all because i was careless

now I have to press four times to type an ‘S’