In the Mad Hatter’s party, the vainglorious desperately seek validation amidst perceived enemies, in a tragic cycle of insecurity and isolation.
Copyright © Priya Florence Shah
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Desperate for validation, drowning in gin,
The Mad Hatter stumbles, where shallowness begins.
At the Mad Hatter’s party, a spectacle of pride,
Where every glance is a challenge, every smile a snide.
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In his mirrored world of shimmering glass,
He sees only rivals, no friendships to amass.
Each guest a threat, a potential defeat,
In his realm of illusions, where ego’s seat.
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He flaunts his wit, sharp and unkind,
Bitter words flow freely, poisoning the mind.
Seeking applause, yet feeding on fear,
The Mad Hatter’s vainglory screams loud and clear.
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But beneath the facade of arrogance and guile,
Lies a broken soul, yearning for a smile.
His laughter echoes hollow, his achievements a sham,
At the Mad Hatter’s table, where darkness swam.
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The Mad Hatter’s frantic quest for acclaim,
Has him lost in a labyrinth of false fame.
Desperate for validation, he found only strife,
At the Mad Hatter’s party, the tragic dance of life.
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