Alice's Private Wonderland

Once upon a time

There lived a girl in her prime

But her talents were buried

By the man she had married

So she painted a picture pretty and true

She painted a picture where pretty flowers grew

And slowly but surely as she lost her mind

The picture became the place she spent all her time

The tiger lillies grew tails and purred along

To the angel trumpet's holy song

Then the the roses grew faces and began to speak

Suddenly her life no longer seemed bleak

The longer she worked

The more her husband lurked

He stayed out of sight

As she worked day and night

And with each flower she'd create

His heart filled with hate

He decided the garden she made

Would soon be decayed

So he created a ploy

To fill her with joy

As the cat ran to Alice

She forgot the man's malice

When the Cheshire and Alice left the room

The husband prepared the painting's doom

Upon hearing the crash

She returned in a flash

By the time she returned

Most of her garden had burned

She ran to save what she could

But upon seeing her husband she understood

All she could save

Were the white roses she made

She sat there and cried

As the man beamed with pride

It was then she finally knew

What it was she had to do

Finally she painted the roses red

With the blood from her husband's head

She is now known in every part

As the queen of broken hearts