Pin a label on his shirt, bold and broad.
Prince, King, how about new day fraud.
Patent leather shoes, three piece suit,
pearly whites, stepping out right.
No formal education, mums the word.
He's got himself a label, have ya heard?
No firm handshake, can't look me in the eye,
now why is this man acting a wee bit shy.
I try to lock eyes, but he turns his head away.
I'm wondering what is going on here today.
Well he's a smooth talker to lilly white girls,
those he has in his pocket, as his cute lip curls.
With his false tongue, he works them good,
filling his pockets like an evil man would.
He has no shame playing a lovers game.
Well Sammy says, I'll take you for a ride,
down that crooked street. I know I knocked
you off your feet. A chuckle and a laugh as
he waves bye bye.
Now the light begins to shine and you
realize you've been treated unkind.
The wrappers are off, the picture is clear,
You've been burnt by a catfish my dear.
Wise up gurrrl, don't play and be bruised,
take your time to watch the evening news.
The gig is up as much truth unfolds, this
time it's you with empty bags to hold.
Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: May 15/2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem