A Confession From The Jailhouse Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

I killed my brother in a dream
And heard my mother sob and scream
For me to stop and spare his life
And put away that carving knife.

My brother was an upright man,
The successful type who always can
Elicit praise from everyone
For all the good things they have done.

He never gambled, never lied,
And never showed a bit of pride
Though he achieved far more than most -
No, I never heard my brother boast.

He was his parents hope and joy
From when he was a little boy,
And yet I claim he was a thief
Who brought me so much pain and grief.

I met a lass and fell in love
And promised by the stars above
That I'd be faithful, always true,
And worship her my whole life through.

She met my brother at a dance,
He smiled at her and took his chance,
My 'noble' brother stole from me
The girl I loved so jealously.

Alas, my dream became a fact
That night I callously attacked
My brother with a kitchen knife
Because I knew he'd steal my wife.

Now they have locked me in a cell
When I should surely burn in Hell,
I killed a better man than me
And they will never set me free.