Cheaters Never Prosper
Upon the grand and winding road where honest travelers tread,
There lies a quiet, shadowy path where foolish souls are led.
They look for shortcuts through the brush to skip the heavy climb,
Believing they can outsmart fate and steal the march of time.
They whisper lies and forge their way with trickery and deceit,
Expecting that a crooked move will grant a win complete.
They wear a mask of confidence, a smooth and clever guise,
And paint a world of false success built entirely on lies.
For in the classroom, on the field, or in the corporate hall,
The one who seeks a lazy route is bound to face a fall.
They copy answers off a page they never cared to learn,
Or take the credit for a prize they didn't work to earn.
They cut the corners off the blueprint, hide the broken beam,
And construct a shaky mansion on a superficial dream.
They think themselves so cunning, oh, so sharper than the rest,
Convincing all their weary hearts that cheating works the best.
But hollow is the victory that never was earned fair,
And fragile is the golden crown made out of thin, cold air.
For every secret cut and seam will slowly start to fray,
And truth, like sunrise in the dark, will always find its way.
The web of lies grows tangled fast, a heavy, suffocating net,
Where every modern promise brings a future of regret.
They live in fear of being seen, of hearing someone call
The simple truth that strips away their armor and their wall.
