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.
Originally posted for 365 Days of Creating Charlie:
Dwelling inside is my inner Alice
perplexed by the choices she has to make
the Cheshire cat, his words mean no malice
but enigmatic words are hard to take.
If the destination is unknowing
than the direction doesn’t matter
when the moments in between are flowing
that is when your road begins to scatter.
So, take a jump down the white rabbits hole
stop for tea with the Hatter and the Hare
scribble and sketch all over your life scroll
for life is outside society’s square.
To be here – is the greatest game you’ll play
another decision, take it your way.