White Rabbit

TheMagicRealist.com

We have all lost our minds. That much I can recall.
But not much beyond that, I am happy to say.
I’ve a timepiece that not only tells me the time.
It will tell me I’m much too late to make that climb
Down the me-hole, where all things behave quite my way.
Would I get there in time if I entered freefall?

How did I lose my memory? And is it right
That we carry on smartly assuming our roles
In this card kingdom, not knowing from whence we came?
Would it be such a riddle were all cast the same?
Does the Master Card Dealer reshuffle our souls
And then redistribute them, perhaps, out of spite?

I am not the white rabbit – at least, not today.
I have regained some memory, not knowing how.
We have come here to act like we’re cards in a deck.
We, most often, are each other’s pains in the neck.
And, poor Alice is grown. She’s in therapy now.
It’s a curious card came that we’ve come to play.

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