
No man now mad is to be looked down on,
Great stories for are told by manic men;
Mind that remembered minds stayed daft, didn’t ask,
‘Has our existence maddened those come and gone?’
Ever will their thoughts, marked with or without pen,
Existed and existing, linger as a task
Without attacking peeps in ways too plain,
A task that’ll cheer each dwelling in grim den.
Touch their works housing hot thoughts like a flask
Of boiling water that results in obvious pain;
Madness will doff its mask.
No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness.
Aristotle
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Categories: Acrostic Poetry