Your Mischievous Majesty Cheshire Cat,
Pray tell me, what do you think of that:
Lately, you are in my thoughts a lot —
Have you been following me or what?

When in the mornings at the mirror I stare
I search for myself, but I’m not there.
Am I a victim of identity theft?
Only a smile is all that’s left.

And though this smile is sort of mine
it morphs and twists like a tricky rhyme:
I see my mom, then my brother and
I glance again — and it’s my dad.

Your Shape-shifting Majesty Cheshire Cat,
Frankly, I try not to think of that,
But what if one day I forget how to smile?
Will I disappear, not just for a while,

But vanish completely? Don’t hide it, my friend:
Without the smile, there’s nothing: THE END.
When in the mornings at the mirror I stare
I search for the smile. I’m glad it’s still there.