Regarding how the con-man, so accustomed to cheating others, finds himself tricked by poor health, and can not fool the grim reaper.

Master of Tragedy

He's a master of tragedy

And ill-gotten gain,

He's always scheming and conning

With his devious brain,

But like all other humans

He can not escape,

The beady eyes of the Reaper

With his scythe and his cape.

So often, these felons

Take advantage of the weak,

Those seeking hope

In lives that are bleak,

Who lack in the typical

Resources of the rich,

And along comes the con-man

To toss them in the ditch.

The ultimate shakedown

Is just around the bend,

When the conman unexpectedly

Is faced with his end,

In the form of disease

Or as a victim of trauma,

All his conning and scheming

Are exposed, as rank drama.

When all his props and controls

Are left outside the door,

His snake-oil potions

Spill out on the floor,

All his misinformation

Built on shadows and lies,

Will land on deaf ears;

No one listens to his cries.

The end of the conman

The deceiver, the shark,

His body betrays him

He's the last, stupid mark*.

(* Fall guy; sucker; target; fool)

Fibril_late;

6/2/08