It wasn't that one time
At band camp
It was a campsite though
A circle of tents
A bonfire that lit up our faces
Like it was daylight
We passed around guitars
Don't know whose they were
Some sang and strummed
Some couldn't do either
Which was just as fun
To hear
We burned one
Hope it wasn't his
We lived with no thought
Of the long run
What was that anyway
What was real life
This was life
It was as real as anything
-alice
YOU ARE READING
Wonderland
PoetryShe wanders, lost in wonder. She falls in and falls out. Loses days and nights and friends. Bottles. Ashes. Echoes of laughter left in her wake. She is no one, without even a capital letter to her name. She is alice.
