Alice In Wonderland Poem by Desiree Whitamore
Alice In Wonderland
I'm confused in my own wonderland
Alice has nothing on me.
The falling down the dark endless tunnel?
You get used to it.
The growing ten feet in a short amount of time?
Nothing new.
The queen trying to bring me down?
The story of my life.
So why every turn a surprise?
Why every tear a reminder of what used to be?
And why, when I finally get comfortable,
I wake up?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 4:03:36 PM # 1.0.0.1119
