Alice was Mad.

Go ask Alice and you'll see,
The mess she'd made of me.

She'd turned me mad,
Insane if you must.

But Alice cared none,
She took it as a game-quite fun.

Perhaps she'd tell the story,
With all the gruesome details.

But this is Alice dear,
She seems afraid of nothing.

Why do you ask,
As to how she made me mad?

That story is another time,
This story's about Alice.

If you must know,
Alice herself went mad.

It seemed as though no wrong had happened,
But it seemed the wrong-ness unfurled.

Alice hide amongst the dark and shadows,
Trying to conceal the pain.

Pain from all the wrong,
I had done all along.

It seemed as though Alice was discontent,
With myself and others.

But if I tried and talked to her she'd utter,
"Go away, leave me alone." and anything else she could mutter.

Alice was mad,
In both forms, of course.

It seemed that no one could cheer her up,
Chessy Cat's efforts failed, too.

Nothing it seemed,
Could lift her spirit off the floor.

I continued to pester Alice,
Always asking what I did wrong.

But she'd always say in a plethora of ways,
"Begone, Evil Hatter, Begone!"

As a hatter, I must say,
Those words cut me to shreds.

The worst pain was when she told me,
I was disowned.

My heart sank,
And off I ran.

I stayed in the shadows,
Hiding from the world.

Then and there was the last time.
The last I would talk to Miss Alice.

Alice seemed to know the hurt,
She had felt it too.

But alas, dear Alice was too hard on herself.
And upon herself she cursed.

So Alice, I feared,
Had left this world mad.

Madder than the hare,
Even madder than I!

As the white queen relayed,
Poor Alice had been sent off.

She'd been sentenced to the asylum.
The "looney bin" you may say.

Never could I visit though,
They'd said I had upset her deeply.

I left her alone,
And did nothing to help.

Alice had been there a good long time,
Before I had decided to visit.

In the corner Alice was huddled,
With her back facing the world.

I asked the guards to please let me in,
As Alice looked quite frail.

In I went to poor Alice,
But it seemed I was too late.

Her skin was ice cold, her gaze was distant.
I turned her around,

And I'd heard a faint sound,
A sound of metal upon the floor.

I looked around,
And all that I saw was a shiny razor blade dripping of red.

I looked with disgust,
And frantically glanced upon Alice's arm.

I thought in horror, "Please don't be gone."
Alas, it seemed it was too late,

As Alice had carved her final thought into her arm,
"I'm mad as the Hatter, I'm sorry old friend."

I fell into a heap upon the floor,
My stomach began to churn.

This couldn't have happened,
Not to poor Alice.

The Alice they said,
To have been as chipper as a strawberry.

She could not have left like this.
But it seemed as so.

As Alice, dear Alice,
Was mad.