Deep down a rabbit’s hole
Lies a strange and wonderful place
Where there is no such thing as time
Or sanity or space

You fall into a room
Where there’s a drink that can make you small
A door so very little
And a cake that can make you tall

A garden where flowers can talk
Where a smart mouthed caterpillar make smoke rings
An island where dodos live
And where birds and sea creatures sing

Down the road live a hatter and a hare
Their cakes and tea are the very best
Both so mad and very insane
Asking why a raven is like a writing desk

In a palace lives a Queen
Who is very short tempered
And with just four little words
She can have your head dismembered

A yard where they use flamingoes and hedgehogs
To play a game of crocket
And forests where bread-and-butterflies
And rocking-horseflies come out and play

Up a tree lives the Cheshire Cat
Who slowly disappears
Telling a young, blond haired girl
Almost everyone is mad here

In this place, it makes sense
That what it is it wouldn’t be
And what it wouldn’t be, it would
Logic of childish insanity

So you are cordially invited
To this place so eccentric and grand
Where nonsense is your guide
To this kingdom called Wonderland

OK, let me seem to be the one "devil" not to honour,
A man is great enough to get the "universe's message" out,
More than 200,000,000 tune in every Sunday
To hear him, the great works fools fantasize about.

"Informing" people why they were born, what the powers are,
Tell us all about these three kings/wise men following a star,
"It's all mind candy, I tell you!" But then I'm silenced,
These people are at the top for being ignorant near and far.

They give us these messages, love each other, don't ****,
Then they bring the Saviorettes out, lambs off of battlefield,
And they bury them with gun in hand, Davy Crocket style,
There is some sort of irony in this, one that is in denial.

So I ask you why these people will spend millions,
Will fall upon their knees in front of a stupid T.V.
This farm slop, this pig wig god, in the endless billions,
To tell you what became of what you call "true history?"

Have you ever stared at someone for a long moment that you actually catch yourself being hypnotized by their absolute impeccable beauty? They posses curvy lips with a soft plumpness texture to them. The way their perfect, oval shaped and squared eyes stare at you with a dark brown pupil gazing right into your abyss soul. Everything about them just makes you warm on the inside only to find out you are perspiring a bit.
  You admire this person's physical beauty extensively, that from this clamant moment you know you have to act up and analyze their way of talking, the movement of their lips and eyes, the sway mobility of their body as they take their every step, and finally they position of their head when they are having a conversation with you. An obsession with this person's body starts taking over you and makes you catch any quirky body gesture that they do not realize on their own. Once you finish examining their eyes and lips you move on to their untarnished oval and slender face. Along with their semi-white teeth when they smile.
  This individual does not appreciate their own beauty to themselves, but others can see it and be mesmerized by it. Wishing to just bury your lips to theirs in a rather violent manner, wanting to just stare at their eyes in a steady position without them thinking you are odd for doing so, and praying for them to let you caress their soft and light skin with your sinful and promiscuous hands. After all of that, you find yourself un-hypnotized only to find out that you can never ever do these things to this beautiful creature. Not because they are not compatible with you. Not because their personality isn't wondrous. But because they are distant.  Knowing you have to see and interact with this person four days out of the week, you find yourself staring at this person from a long distance when they are not looking. And peek a crocket smile as you look down at the floor when they turn around.
  Too distant from you and too oblivious to notice that you've turn all of their flaws into an absolute immaculate piece of art that should be hanged on a hallow pure wall while it is worshipped by many.
  For this reason I shall wake up from my false dream and walk out of the door with all of my feelings, desires, and hopes thrown into a bin called the American dream.

Cried and cried stubborn Baby Crocket,
Cause he wanted to go on a rocket,
Mum simply said no,
Dad said,"You know,"
The giant alien will lock you in his locket.
3/3/2023