From Scattered Seeds of Thought

The Scam Doctors

SLAM prompt: Scams

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The Scam Doctors

You call us Travelers, though that is not our name,
But no matter what you label us, it's only to defame.
For we are Gypsy royalty; terms all mean the same.
The blood of family's the identity we claim.

You peer inside our mobile homes, attempting to see.
But efforts to comprehend only leave us with "ennui."
Your studies and your "ologies" are cream of fantasy.
You'll never part our mists; of that I guarantee.

We'll always stand apart. To us, you're only marks.
We blend in with the shadows, slipping through the dark,
Hunting you in shallows. Think of us as sharks
Feeding on your wallets as we prowl inside the parks.

Some say we're artists; some say the devil's kin.
What you choose to call us, only brings about a grin
And a hand inside your purse as we play the violin.
Chin-up little mark; we won't be back again.

We'll do your driveway cheap, thank you, ma'am.
Of course, we don't use tar, but it passes the exam.
Motor oil won't help you, so in rain you're in a jam,
But we're all gone and laughing from another grand slam!

Yes, scamming is our forté, doesn't everyone have a skill?
Who else could you trust to rake the profit off your till?
A speckling of mystery and a spot of goodwill,
Just figure we're your medicine, and take us like a pill.

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