Mad

Memoirs of a Mad Poet Vol. III

Mad?

You think that I am mad?

I could hardly solve equations in Math class.

I could not drop chemicals into a test tube safely.

In the exam room, I scribbled limericks

In my bathroom, I wrote verse

At the desk in my bedroom, I penned stories

How about the drawings

I drew after dinner?

You still think that I am mad?

Well—be that as it may…

I would rather be so

Then sit in a dull, 4X4 office

And listen to the ravings

Of a profit-hungry boss.