Conman

A simple sigh supplies enough to the room that one could decipher the vibe. Different people, linear thoughts. Conman tell me what to do. Snake oil sales only sells the soul. Pitter-patter upon the floor, tip-toe down the hall. Come again, conman, tell me what to do.

Sharp inhale shows such pains. Snake oil sales can’t buy you life. There has to be more than this. Wake up, conman. Don’t sleep so tight. There ain’t such a thing as right, but everything is always wrong. Come on, conman, tell me what to do.

I’m starving. For attention, devotion, satiation, salvation. Time keeps ticking, running, slipping by. Catching it won’t stop it. Funny how it just keeps out of reach. Wake up, conman, tell me what to do..

Snake oil salesman sold my soul to the conman. Hold my hand, tell me what to do. It’s much too late, yet feels so soon. Conman tell me who to be. Carry me home, the pitter-pattering feet can’t keep the pace. So long, farewell; conman. Keep your ill gotten goods, but tell me where to go.

Oh, conman. Your words of wisdom always fell to deaf ears and yet you kept speaking. Tell me where I am, for I have yet to stand. Oh, conman, when will we be okay.