Madness
They told me he was mad when they took him
And locked him up away somewhere for good,
And when they said it then I understood
That madness is hallucinations grim.
The monsters in his mind had over brimmed
And lo reality had not withstood.
That madness in his mind won in the end.
But is madness simply seeing what’s not there?
Is there more to the word than to the crime?
For surely madness is found everywhere
As we repeat the same old ways and rhymes,
And wake each day to cublicled nightmares.
Is that not madness at its very prime?
