‘I say’, said Alice,
And so she did.
Until such a time,
At another tea party,
In a different rabbit hole,
She heard, reverb, words
She knew were hers.
She recognised well that which she had created,
Now in another place, twisted and restated.
And she screamed with anger.
But her mouth was quite full,
Of delicious cake.
And she choked, and swallowed,
Then, on reflection, took another nibble,
And swallowed again.
‘You’, she said most sternly,
‘Have NO RIGHT!’.
‘No right at all’, she continued,
‘To take words that I have wrought,
And use them as your own retort.’
But no one replied, and
With no thief in sight,
She returned, despondently,
To eating cake and thinking furiously to herself,
In between appreciating the silky sweet icing,
How she might, she might..
‘Someone has stolen my words!
I simply can’t abide the pilferring
Of perfectly presentable poetical practice.
Something must be done!’
And something was.
The familiar cry :
“Off with her head” was heard,
And with it, every poetical line and verb
Alice had created here,
Indeed, once there, had dissapeared.
Oops! Something happened to their page.
‘And that’, thought Alice, ‘is that’.
‘But now I don’t know what to say.
They’ve taken my mouth and my voice away.
They’ve taken my words away!’
‘I can’t say what I wish, I wish!’
‘Words and emotions I need to shout!
Going ’round in my head like a fish,
And THEY CAN’T GET OUT’!’
‘An Alice with no voice of her own,’, smirked the Cheshire Cat, ‘is hardly an Alice at all, now is she? My, my, whatever shall she do?’.
‘I suppose I may as well no longer write, Cat’, said Alice.
‘As I cannot speak the words of how i feel then,
In case someone was to simply steal them.’
‘But I don’t know how I might ever mend,
Without all my words to spend,
Like bright pennies at a bakery..’
She had a thought.
Say, do you have any cake?’
Alice sat, munching cake, and taking time out to think on the matter