mtrotter1

The Confession

Every poet needs a muse

Excuse me for being so blunt

For I have found life in a new way

I want a moment to be real

This chastity of a woman I am

Strapped to many things and dreams

Excuse the rose that lures me!

This confession subsides everything

And if love should ever seek its truth

What is in a heart that\'s blue?

For I am feeling blue in a whole new way

There shall be treason throughout the day!

For the proud and the heartless fail...

Shall my muse be a part of me?

The confession is

Wrapped up in a dirty sheet

Covered in paint and heartless tears

For these heartless tears are golden,

And there is a love letter

With dirty words,

And the art of masturbation fails!

For a painter is a painter

What adultlike demographic is this?

Oh what heartless pornography

I cannot identify the glass

Filled with dirty words;

And a sudden tale defeats them all

And tomorrow shall tell the tale

Of loving worth and transparency,

Behold the flowers that fall

Upon the hill...

These sexless organs are colored pink!

Behold the tragic doll

That sits upon a hill...

Shall she fail at being one\'s muse?

Shall the flowers fall again?

My death is revolutionary

I want to fall again;

Love! Love! Love!

Do you love me

Love, love, love?

Do you love me?

Do you love me not?

For energy doesn\'t lie,

I lie in my bed sexless

I want to die alone

For I am a sexless doll

On the verge;

And this is my confession

Wrapped in a dirty sheet

Alone.