PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Gold Diggers


And then we realize we can't compete with this
"Women can't be trusted" theory
Use us for our bodies and we get nothing in return
Then turn around and call us users, when we ask for the iron instead of the burn
"See I knew it, yall girls always have yall hands out." 
For he knows that fear of him leaving or us seeming needy and greedy, will force us to put our hands up
And SURRENDER
The fear of being alone scares us more than the fear of being disrespected
Our ego is small, longing for his attention like children who were neglected
Deep down he knows netflix and chill is all he needs to get into our gold
Or all he's willing to give
He wants a free ticket inside our hour glass figures
When you look closely, women aren't the real gold diggers
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.