The forger

The forger stopped by a garage sale
Looked around, could not believe his luck
As a magnificent painting by a little known master he found.
A geat deal for the few hundred bucks of his own money recently printed he paid.
All smiles, proud of his steal  it is with a gait in his step  
That he went back to his car, the precious gift for his beloved under the arm.
 
A gift she was so happy to receive, she gleamed, dollar signs in her eyes,
As she took the Masterpiece to the appraiser
Who took precious time with magnifying glass the signature to examine
Finally telling her, so sorry, that it was worth less, much less than  
The Louis Vuitton purse she was holding.
Naturally, little did he know that it was also a superb reproduction
But a fake, nonetheless.