The Madman

Deep down I feel him simmering, the madman who is me;
he’s waiting for the time I let his howling madness free.
The world gets little glimpses of the other side of me,
that strange and wild-eyed demon I’m loathe to just set free.
I’d get lost in lifes jungle and swing from vine to vine
while howling at the moon each night – a common madness sign.
And so I live the life of me – sedate and dignified
until I reach my end of days – releasing what I hide.
For deep down we all hide him ‘the other’ who is us
and place a veneer of niceness so we don’t make a fuss.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
This entry was posted in Life. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s