The mother tongue inside my head was made in an English hamlet she a built a world, on words she read and followed the white rabbit. She never knew who she was although she knew her name was Alice but she kept on going without pause and took her place in Hatters palace. She drank tea with a squeaky mouse and spoke riddles with a Cheshire she grew to big for her house and loved the people that met her. The mother tongue inside my head is a lot like little Alice she listens to every words that's said high in her urban terrace.

This is exquisite. Begs to be read aloud.
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Thank you 🙂
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