My Mad Hatter

I didn't know it a week before,
but yesterday I knew,
the Mad Hatter of my time,
has stolen something new,

He is different indeed,
his outlook quite scary,
but get to know him well,
and you'll find he's actually merry,

Long silences he seems to have,
thinking of what next to say,
but when he speaks I suddenly forget,
what it is I wanted to convey,

And so he holds a beating organ,
which belong to me in fact,
it is bloody red and anxious,
under his stare to be exact,

But I am afraid, however,
of how he'll take the news,
for many a lady of this land,
are intrigued by him too,

And now I leave it at this,
a sort of tragic story,
Oh Mr. Mad Hatter, never just the latter,
I need you here with me.