The Con In Confidence Poem by Susan Lacovara

What face the jester does wear
To snatch her stare
And blind her eyes
From the surprise
That nothing is what it appears

His trick, hand picked
Certain she will fall
For the love of it all
All wrapped up in a summer squall

The Mystic
So twisted her religion
Based solely on the decision
That she knew him well and wise
And so was her demise

The con man
With practiced slight of hand
Showed coins of gold
For her to hold
Then switch the pitch
And sold her down the line
Left her with nothing left to shine

The thief, beyond belief
With ninja footfall stepped on her grief
Trinkets taken, identity mistaken
She could not sketch his true face
In a barely there and broken space
All she knew of what was real
Was she had fallen for a raw deal

The smiling clown
Leaving town
And with that
Tore the Big Top down