My Time (Poem)

Time is Steadily wasting, and I got shit to do,
So that means I don’t got time to waste on you.
You talking mad game, and making empty promises,
Keep that shit for your Mama and them, cuz I ain’t found of them.
Because she’s the only one that will play with you,
Her and the other chicks that be chasing you.
You talking about “let’s see where this goes, let’s go with the flow”…..
I’ve done heard that many times before and it’s a Hell No!
You don’t want to spend no money, and around your boys you be acting funny,
Stingy niggas don’t deserve no honey,
And if you acting funny, I’m not walking, I’m running.
Far away to another island where I can chill by crystal blue water,
Where the water is cool, but my heart is colder.
See I’ve given plenty niggas a chance, that turned out to be Heartbreakers,
Plenty that almost made me send them back to their maker.
Now, I value my heart, my time, and my freedom,
And all men have done is shown me how much I don’t need em.
I’ve tried to sex them good, love them hard, and feed em.
But these fuckboys are no good, because nobody took the time to teach em.
How to treat a woman like a princess and worship her like a Queen,
How to provide the home and the groceries, so she can cook and clean,
How to calm her down when she is acting mean,
How to think with his head, and not act like a pussy fiend.
How to dance with her when she wants to get ratchet,
How to hustle for his family and climb the tax bracket.
That if she comes to the table with Love, that he got to match it,
And that if she’s throwing her heart into his hands, be gentle when you catch it.
But y’all on demon time, and want to play pimp games,
Cry when we give our time to the better man you call lame.
Cry when we find a man with a bigger dick and bank account,
Comparing Yourself to the better man, when you don’t even amount.
See, you getting mad when I roll my eyes and walk away,
You talking alot of shit, but really have nothing important to say.
See, there’s money to be made, and ratchet shit to do.
Boy, my time is too precious, and I ain’t got time for you.

© Tanisha R. Coleman, 2022. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Tanisha R. Coleman with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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