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The Hustler

A rich man’s only son
the pampered apple of his mother’s eye
he never worked, never broke a sweat
the money was just there,
until, one day, it stopped
and set him on a search,
a lifetime wasted
chasing a distorted dream

No patience for virtue, no talent for vice
he blundered through his shamefaced days
sneering at the decent, worshipping the vile
looking for an angle, a lucky break
a would-be con man who could only con himself
Until one day, broken and hopeless, he found the end
and died never having learned the truth
that there’s nothing to be won
and even less to lose


3 Responses

  1. Make me think of Dorian Grey in an odd way.

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