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Alice, in her nightgown, dances,
afraid to take any more chances.
Eyes and lips stained black, and rouge
coats her cheeks, her skin’s bruised blue.
Her heart has rotted in her chest,
a withered thing within her breast.
Broken glass, she’s left with nothing
but a broken dream, and some things
never change, her feet are bleeding-
her tired eyes, tired of seeing,
her shattered life, that’s left in ruin
body covered with contusions.
She’s wasting away even as she spins.
Little Alice never wins.

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