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