By MMD
To whoeverso finds this message
Adrifting down to their doormat
I must admit admonishment,
Oh, Townsfolk of Wonderland,
For I find I lack the nerve
With which to enter your domain.
I find it a travesty
That I cannot will myself
To appreciate both
The land without
where I reside
And the land within
That I find myself barred from.
Your illuminescent gates
Remain shut to me,
Though of no fault of anyone,
Not even my own.
Now I lay me down
To
Sleep?
Or so it seems at first
But still my self wanders,
Yearning for completion
In the mundanity around me.
He has lost his way from your doorstep,
Though the mat has been barely tread upon as is,
And as such he searches for things
That might return him to this letter
Within without myself.
So I beseech thee:
Please, prop the gates open tonight.
He shall be wandering,
Pacing
Back and forth
Waiting
Long into the eve
For a friendly face
To let without within
And finally bring me peace,
At least for the night.
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