I Confess

Lying on my bed just before sleeping often I think something to write but I sleep. When awake I forget the thought. I cry for you sweetheart! Wish I could have stitched a blue skirt for you! I could have dressed you in the zero power green bulbs! I could have beautified you in the dressing table of my heart! I could have managed white stockings and black sandals for you! With a bag full of words arranged in lines, I could have said good bye to you wishing a happy time in the school of poets! But I slept! I couldn't send you where admiration and adore were waiting for you! I confess, I am a killer of beautiful thoughts in the womb of my brain that could have born like a cute infant that could have grown in a popular poem like a sweet and sexy teenage girl who is grown to be loved. I confess, I am killer of love. My love is not true, Otherwise I would have left my bed and picked my pen. Alas! My lazy lips and the gone forehead!