Sometimes I'm just randomly motivated to write things such as this. Idk if id call it a poem, but it can be whatever you want it to be. I don't really have a title either so feel free to give ideas if you'd like. It's for both women and men but most of this is written in the context of the adulterous woman, the woman who is promiscuous, the prostitute, the one who's identity is in beauty, etc. This isn't a diss to women it's a reality and truth about some women in our world. There are men out there like this as well so see it from both sides. Hope it speaks to you 🙂
Garments laced as a frame for her body
The only thing she knows is in the context of being naughty
Her whole make up is identified by her over priced make up
Her face is covered with a mask, her and glamour will never break up
Her sensuality makes a man take a glance
once his heart is captivated all he yearns is a chance
Her words flatter the weak hearted and entertain the lost
The man who chooses her doesn't know the cost
She is sweet in the moment, But bitter in the end
She gives the starving man the desire of his heart and he calls her friend
Immorality is the seal laid upon her heart
A blazing fire is set in a man when he is hit with her dart
In her there is no life and she pierces like a double edge knife
Wisdom is her enemy and she wages war without cease
She's an instrument of Satan at her best between the sheets
Promiscuity is her duty and her delight for the night
Shes lurking for the weak for she knows they won't fight
She has no delight to do right, and she boasts in her wrong
Soft honey dipped lips as death pulls her along
In the day she masters her game plan to execute in the dark
She puts her A game on for the night and sets her mark
She identifes her territory with boldness and no shame
She takes the highway to hell, the red light district blood stain
The price of her is but a loaf of bread
One phone call she accepts the white lies she's fed
Her industry is all self governed and charm is her master
Tap dance with her she will bring a peaceful home to disaster
The thirsty fight over her and exalts her beauty
She walks around wasting her life because she knows not her duty
She doesn't understand that in Christ she lives and has her being
Its hard for her to perceive that He is life and He is freeing
