wednesday morning, 3 a.m.

i can hear the soft breathing

of the girl that i love

as she lies here beside me

asleep with the night

and her hair

in a fine mist

floats on my pillow

reflecting the glow

of the winter moonlight

she is soft

she is warm

but my heart remains heavy

and i watch as her breasts

gently rise

gently fall

for i know with the first light of dawn

i'll be leaving

and tonight will be

all i have left to recall

oh

what have i done

why have i done it?

i've committed a crime

i have broken the law

for twenty-five dollars

and pieces of silver

i held up and robbed

a hard liquor store

my life seems unreal

my crime an illusion

a scene badly written

in which i must play

yet i know as i gaze

at my young love beside me

the morning is just a few hours away