“If you put a really small value upon yourself, rest assured that the world will not raise your price." --Anonymous
Hi heels equals low feels
They can be uncomfortable
So what’s the deal
Bad in the long run
For your hazel health
Do you wear for them or for yourself
Painted face masking you
Dare I ask
What you trying to prove
Do you feel better
Hiding your truth
Will you ever
Know that beauty is the real you
Wigs and weave
The new standard today
Hopefully
You know you are great
Not saying
It’s ok to hate
Just saying authenticity celebrate
For you dudes
Maybe you feel it too
Judgement cloud over you
Maybe you are short
Or you feel behooved
When you court as the real you
If she is a lot lizard
Or she sins as gold digger
You too must know your worth
Saying no to her doesn’t make you a jerk
To yourself
Please be true
Grow in health
To love authentic you
Spit fire and spin honey,
the target-a wealthy man and his money.
She has no other talent that qualifies,
just the sum of what quantifies.
She's got cause and family ties,
under the guise of friendship and lies.
Depending on time to line her pockets,
she waits like a spider to sign the dockets.
The honey it dries,
the old man dies.
It evokes such pain and indifference,
targets of especial sentimental significance".
Don’t dare be A Gold Digger,
Who pays like A
Never one's treasures near
While permitting no fear.
Never either bestride a farm
That didn’t weary your arm
Nor try to closer go
To any of its inviting row,
For one should not at all experience charm
Of what didn’t occasion one harm:
To never dare reap
What didn’t for you grow
Not amass in a heap
What another did sow
Many a gold digger has ended like a fowl
And very few felt they should wear a scowl.
A wealthy old man in his fifties,
Loved a young girl he thought was just nifty.
His friends didn't like her.
They called her a piker.
But the old man said she was just spiffy.
He wished to marry the fraulein.
Asked his friends, "Do you think she'll be mine?"
I have plenty of money,
And she's such a honey.
Oh sure! Tell her you're 99.
I smiled invitingly, the screen
Revealed woman of my ideal
Russian silk beauty, pure, unseen
Pillow lips, brush eyelash appeal
I said I could serve her well, my earnings
Would purchase nicest things of her yearnings
I'll fly her here, get her spousal visa
Her eyes alight, replied, "Sure... I'm Leeza"
" I need a man on good money"
I smiled, " Two fifty salary"
Her sqint, " Oh, it is that each month?"
Sense shrieked above smooth aesthetic
Her theme clearly spelt pretentious
- Need to switch her off, tremendous
2nd September 2020
Written for Contest: Charronet
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Shall I compare a summer’s day to thee
in an effort to make lust seem profound,
you’re hot, wanted, and can make men sweaty,
but is it worth it when the sun goes down?
Paying so much to go out on the town,
at the nicest restaurants you have to eat,
vacation at the ritziest sports around,
reveling in being looked at as meat.
Knowing what you command with your beauty,
hoping to bring the high-bidders in close,
living the high life until you’ve drained me,
then to the next man you so swiftly go.
You’re hot, but you are a pain-in-the-neck,
is it really all worth it just to get sex?
as there boat whip
and water sip
they dig deep
until its complete
put in a bold
its gold
while ships in motion
GOLD DIGGER AND THE OCEAN
She's Flossy,
Champagne Taste With Beer Money,
She's Bossy,
Takes What She Wants,
All You Have Sonny,
Hold Your Peace,
And Let The Lord Fight It,
Because In Heaven,
Bling,
Don't Mean A Thing,
Honey.
Gold Digger
My teacher says...
Me study everyday...
Me will be smart...
Life will be a lark..
Me no study,
Me no care,
Me go marry
A millionaire..
Me no beauty...
Me no need worry...
Me get money...
Go get plastic surgery...
Me a ravishing beauty...
Me ready to marry...
Me snare a rich man...
A millionaire the better man.
Me will have money...
Me money so plenty....
Me travel round the world..
Cos got a rich hubby...
When he dies,
Me no cry...
Me go marry...
Another guy...
Me have money...
Me get new hubby...
Me let go the past...
Get another man to last...
Me no worry ...
Me got plenty money...
Me PM says it clearly....
I believe wholeheartedly....
Cash is King...
Me live like a queen...
Me no need to study...
Rich man I can marry....
Hohoho...
Note.. 2nd n 6th from What's app message...
Credit to the originator of that message...
When you see her face
bucks are written all over
waiting to find her victim
Drinking your own blood
until you are fully drained
hah all the way to the bank..
half his age
and nearly twice his
height
pretty as a picture
but none too bright
he loves her open
arms (and legs) –
his “tart”
spread-eagled on his
sports-car’s bonnet
she likes him for
his open mind and
open heart
but most of all –
his open wallet
she intends to stick
with him through
thick and thicker
and is most
“concerned” about
his dodgy ticker
you can see my
illustration &
original poem on my
blog here -
http://tap-p.com/2014/08/22/gold-digger/
You go to work,
toil hard all day.
Works for me,
keeps you out of my way.
At the end of the month
you get your salary,
then you can buy me gifts,
with which to lavish me.
Wine and dine me
a few times a week,
then another I wont seek.
I need my hair done,
you can pay
but don't hang around,
you don't have to stay.
I'll even let you cook for me,
I'll have Lobster Frittata for my tea.
Dom Perignon is the drink I choose
but no plonk please,
no cheap booze.
We can go to Paris for the weekend,
I'm sure you wont mind if I bring a friend.
Then we'll go shopping and you can come too.
There'll be bags to carry,
there'll be quite a few.
If you get tired,
I suppose you can stop
but I'll carry on to the next shop.
I test drove a sports car,
that was really nice,
I said you'd buy it,
didn't notice the price.
I'll sleep in the bed,
you can stay in that chair.
You can get a blanket,
you'll be comfy there.
What's all that?
Is that my stuff?
What do you mean,
you've had enough?
Why are my bags by the door?
What do you mean,
you don't love me anymore?
Gold Digger
now I'm not saying she's a gold digger
but her hands are in my pants pants pants
and I'm thinking as far as I can figure
she's not asking me to dance dance dance
cause the only tune I can hear playing
is the one that's in my head head head
and she's not skinny but she keeps saying
honey I need some bread bread bread
only last week she was begging me
she's needing cash for her sister sister sister
in my pocket once again you see
surprised her hand isn't one blister blister blister
I tell her go away you fool
you're not coning me this time time time
then she cries saying I'm not cool
the way you treat me is a crime crime crime
that's a lie and you know it honey
I give you everything you need need need
but all you seem to want is my money
I'm not a turnip and I bleed bleed bleed
so I'm not saying she's a gold digger
but her hands are always in my pants pants pants
and I'm thinking as far as I can figure
she's still not asking me to dance dance dance
Gomer LePoet....
killing for love? we should out grow it
unless it's for deceivers and you know it
those less fortunate charity recievers
those pretty eye's and nails
masscara that never fails
those that are witty for a reason
allways dressed up for the season
when you speak their eye's are wide open
tabulating the latest slogan
until something better comes along
then swoops the shadow of lonliness
what happened to that pressence
what happened to that smile
why so suddenly anothers child
a shared togetherness for a short while
feeling so used like a rung on a ladder
the dirt from your shoes on my face
my pursuit of you a public disgrace
and when i finally see, like the prodicals son
my first thought about a gun
who? what for the reader may ask
the world cannot keep the both of us
GOLD DIGGER
Once, a gold digger I met.
With passion, the goldmine all night long she dug .
What a way to discover a talent
A grave digger she became.
For, her grave she dug, whilst for gold she dug.
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