3am thoughts scurry on dormice feet
down the rabbit hole as though late for tea
they pause only for a puff from a hookah
with a pillary sort of chap
then it's off to slay the Jabberwocky
curiouser and curiouser
they grow tweedledumber
as deeper I go into the tangles of this Blunderland
all the while my mind's gone numb
as I March to the madness that pounds like a drum
and the Hatter and Hare cannot keep my pace
now only the ax of the Queen of Hearts
can do away with this Cheshire Cat grin on my face
About the Creator
Sara Little
Writer and high school English teacher seeking to empower and inspire young creatives, especially of the LGBTQIA+ community
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