Mad As A Hatter Poem

Mad  As  A  Hatter


      My hands tremble as I hold the teacup                                             The fine glass long chipped and broken off.
                   A long table wildly decorated in colors                                          despite the fact that only I and a Rabbit sat there
                                      Emerald eyes search the table frantically,                                                     Madly....
Where is our little Alice?                                                              What a naughty child she is being so late!
                   Suddenly I see the soldiers of Hearts                                           A wicked grin contorts my features
                                       I then pulled my knife to them.                                                                                              
The poor souls never saw it coming....
Blood decorates everything;                                                                     it flavors my tea oh-so-wonderfully.
                                                 You may dub me as insane,twisted maybe                                                              even loony,and obsessed..
              I am, and always will be known as, after all,
                        simply "Mad as a Hatter"