His pockets light, his heart grown cold, He walks the streets, a story untold. A silver tongue, a charming smile, Lured him in for just a while.
With promises of riches untold, Of castles grand and streets of gold, He spun a web, so fine and thin, The conned man fell right in.
The deal was struck, the handshake made, A fool's gold bargain, quickly laid. The wind it whistled, cold and shrill, As empty pockets made him ill.
He cursed the name he couldn't recall, The smooth-faced fiend who'd given him fall. His trust betrayed, his spirit beat, He walked the streets, in bitter defeat.
But in the shadows, faint and low, A flicker burned, a faint afterglow. For even hearts that have been conned, Can rise again, by lessons learned.
With wiser eyes and footsteps slow, He'll tread the path, where conmen go. And though the scars of trust may stay, He'll rise above, and find his way.
So let this be a lesson learned, For every heart that's ever yearned. Beware the charm, the silver tongue, Lest you be left, where he was once.
For even in the darkest night, There's strength within, to set things right. And though the world may seem unfair, The conned man rises, with hope to share.
