Mr. HatterA Poem by RastaChiko™March 9th, 2009.Silence. The violins play. The piano leads you on. He stands tall in court. His charge, you ask? You fool. The cello sets off.
He tips his hat, smirking. His tea rests upon his hat. "I can't recall." Is his reply. A violin stands solo. Drifting to slumber.
The queen screams. In angered heat. He giggles boyishly. Clutching his axe. The music makes you frightened. His eyes flash.
The cards bleed. Whimpering at his feet. The court is silent. His lips curl. The tea cups break. A piano solo to leave you guessing.
"Am I so mad? No want for tea? Spare me the logic, Alice. I will soon make you flee." © 2012 RastaChiko™Reviews
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Added on March 10, 2009Last Updated on June 15, 2012 AuthorRastaChiko™Flaming O's Records, MAAboutI could tell my parents hated me. My bath toys were a toaster and a radio. My name is Heather. I'd rather be called something more creative. I am seventeen, turning a sweet eighteenth in January. I.. more..Writing
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