Alice was mad, Mad like the Hatter
Except the Hatter doesn't exist
Like rabbit's ticking watch
And the white roses she painted red
Even the bottle that turned her small
Or the cake she ate that turned her tall
Alice created the wonderland from
Her own horror story
The Hatter beat her every night
And the ticking echoed throughout the night
Her pale white skin she painted red
And the bottle that seduced her craving head
Wonderland was a delusion to those
Diagnosed sane
Alice was mad
There is no Wonderland
YOU ARE READING
Rant On
PoetryHey this is just a book full of quotes, poems, and rants. Some may be triggering.
