I’m mad
Conflicting
influences and confused minglings,
I run everywhere like a rat who slings,
Shaking senseless head for a meaningless
confusion,
In the home of endless faults with rueful regression,
I shall fall now from a three legged
chair,
Searching the forth leg to make another
pair,
With one obscure observant eye and one
closed one,
Why shall I waste one eye if I can see
with one?
I’m that mad who writes, you are but who
read,
Both are meant for the same preposterous
need,
I live under a sky; you live under a roof,
My truth needs faith; your truth needs
proof,
With my well tuned madness I’m happy to
say,
“All you vainglorious men; stay away”
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