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William Gomes Poem
You became the one, out of a complete stranger.
Some person points a gun at you, my life is now in danger.
But baby, now you're gone, and I've built up all this anger.
I knew it all a long, I'm an outfit. You're a hanger.
In other words, you were, something to hang on to.
My life is rather rough, but you were something I belonged to.
Something I'd never hurt, nor would I, ever wrong you.
See, love is like some lyrics, and we never got this song through.
Copyright © William Gomes | Year Posted 2011
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William Gomes Poem
First time post.
It's oh-so right to think. I left cause I assume.
You think, just cause you drink, I'd assume a private room.
But maybe, baby, I'm different. Something you can't expect.
And maybe, I'd like you more, if you had some self-respect.
Self-esteem, a woman's dream, its easy to detect.
It's a mirror to yourself, an I just watch how you reflect.
Copyright © William Gomes | Year Posted 2011
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William Gomes Poem
To me a person, is defined by there intention.
And girl, your just fine, but you insist on the attention.
Yea life is gonna' suck, when "sucks" your definition.
And honestly, and obviously, you're something that I'd mention.
You see, sadly, I don't mention a lot...
And hardly do I ever mention things I do not got...
But baby, did I mention, that I did this on the spot,
So I didn't think of much, but I thought of you a lot...
Copyright © William Gomes | Year Posted 2011
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William Gomes Poem
When you read, what I write, does it help you feel alright?
Like when you, were a child, and you got tucked in at night.
So the monsters couldn't get you, and the bed bugs couldn't bite.
When you read, what I write, does it help you feel alright?
Copyright © William Gomes | Year Posted 2011
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William Gomes Poem
As I let these flow, the lyrics they get deep.
I only write at night when, I can't seem to sleep.
My eyes get rather heavy, my body, wide awake.
My pen keeps writing steady, as my hand begins to shake.
I want to change lives, as mine has surely changed,
My morals and beliefs, they have all been, rearranged.
I no longer fake. I no longer judge.
Regardless of the ache, I no longer hold a grudge.
Regardless of the pain, I'll learn to forgive,
All call me insane, but, this is how I'll live.
All of you can read, but few can understand.
I'll take the role as lead, pen and paper, in my hand.
Copyright © William Gomes | Year Posted 2011
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