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with your accusations treating all woman the same though we all got different faces and we bout different things not every girl you meet is about chasin wedding rings Be real! with yourself cuz your truth is a self reflection of the lies that you been told but some of us are strong enough to speak back through the rage and in this day and age I say again not all women are the same. We all arent after your money cuz we have our own we dont all want your D*ck, some of us rather be alone, most of us dont mind being alone at night its better than being with such a one-track mind. Be Real! Tell me you the realest, you tell it like it is, well what it is for me is you must speak, before someone speaks above you before someone claims to love you and you refuse to accept the affection and you get embarrassed by her affection so you go lookin for cause to call her a ho to let her go a good girl got lost in your non-existent sentiment just cuz you payin rent for her warm lovin you aint got enough money and to me, money means HEART to invest in the real-estate of her pearly gates. Be Real! Accept that you dont know that a real woman is worth her weight in gold and your accusations are old and my ears are deaf to the persistant beat of your suffering heart and I know that Being alone is even better than being your hoe. |
 Tiare Gomes Other sites featuring Tiare WriteBay Vision2Words Blogspot 
the Guest Book Blue Phoenix Creations |
You beat me down, Like the doors that held you back, Threw my pride against the grill of the cadillac, All back. You held me hard against your heart beat, Barely concious, Hard to breathe... I cant speak. I took a blow to the soul, Man possessed.. movin too quick to think, Go slow... Down the bruises to my mind, Heart, body, and soul collide, You rollin fast and I'm along for the ride. You beat me down to the sound of the bass, Full force pullin at my remorse, Makin me regret the moment we met And set fire to this love, That heated up too quick and settled into lust. You beat me. You degraded me. You made me, Force myself into self worth. Take anotha swing, Cuz you beat me with your words, Not your fists. Take anotha swing, man, you missed. Tiare Gomes |
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by Tiare Gomes
Imagine that.
A life for a life.
Under attack they shot back,
and death lay them down in eternal rest.
Lord bless this sinner, for justice knows his name.
And his day's are numbered, justice says...
Let the murderer be murdered.
The gates of heaven open in wait,
they banish him to hell out of hate.
But he asked and recieved,
forgiveness is his fate.
How could we turn our heads,
let this be let him sit in wait,
for the excecution date.
Give him time to contemplate the world
that we have made,
the mistakes that have been made.
His positive progressions,
and juvenile obsessions.
His eyes are opened to his crimes,
his heart given over to god.
Over and over he's thought it over,
the life that he has taken.
Made up his mind to set things right.
In GOD's eyes he is forgiven.
We give him paper and pen to write,
he brings his thoughts his prayers to light.
Preaches the word,
becomes the word,
gives the wort to the street
And the street hears and responds to his plea,
natural born leader he makes them see an end.
To violence, to pain, to death.
And the street responds.
Boys turning into men
see him as one of them,
and stray thier dangerous hand.
abandon some deadly plan.
Now they mourn his death
yet they don't deal with rage,
instead leavin the streets to fill his empty cage.
Heart still beating, strong and alive
his love, his lessons live on.
Through Pride.