Ain’t too proud to beg
Pays more than a regular job
With wages so low
And nowhere to go
It’s hard to blame this baying mob
At every turn
An outstretched hand
A fee for everything
As they approach and demand
A career of sorts
Professionals are they
As they show you a ‘kindness’
Or deliberately lead you astray
Then hit you up
At an extortionate rate
Though sympathetic to their plight
You start to hate
This insatiable hunger
They feel inside
As you see the pound signs
Flashing before their eyes
When a visitor passes by
‘A walking atm’
Perceived to be full of cash
To be emptied out by them
On you like a plague
They’ll quickly rinse you clean
If you don’t have your wits about you
If you’re generous instead of mean
An impossible situation
It really wears you down
Caught in a full-blown tourist trap
Ravenous they hound
Concentrated at every site
The beggars lie in wait
Harass you with all their might
And if you don’t cough up
They’ll spit at you or curse
Or threaten to beat you up
That’s a fact – could it get any worse?
These parasites that swarm
Around the city of Marrakech
Are a horrific blight on a place
I so wanted me to impress
The way they aggressively prey
On the travellers that flow
Sadly ruined what I truly hoped would be
A magical place to go 😥
Rachel Rhodes 