Alice
Lived in a world all tidy and righteous
Her hair pulled back in an orderly way
She always smelled of daffodils
And espeically of pride
But what did she sense
In the Cheshire grin?
A madman
And danger and loss
Stuttering over words she did not
Know? Understand? Believe?
But I,
the not-so humbe poet
Heard the honesty
of his unaccusing blame
Acceptance of sanity beyond sane
Innocence...
But I loved her just the same