†

Poetic Madman

For many years, I hid my pain
And donned a mask of glee;
My poetry was private,
It was blessed release for me.
I lost ten million pages,
From never writing it down,
Not wanting to expose myself
When others were around.
I never thought of how it looked
To others, who couldn't know
When poetry had taken over;
They just knew I didn't show.
On dark and stormy afternoons,
I often disappeared;
I was going home to write a poem,
There was nothing that I feared.
At times, I must have seemed somber indeed,
Or spaced out of my mind;
But, I was lost in the Cosmic Debris,
Searching for some rhyme.
That strikes me as really funny
And it unravels some mysteries;
When people thought I was lost in space,
I was combing my faculties.
How foolish I was to hide it;
I'm glad I now am free;
Even though others say I've changed,
They've never really known me.
I thought poetry, somehow,
Made me less of a man;
But, it's the biggest part of me,
I've come to understand.
It's given me identity
And taken nothing away;
I'm no longer just the Madman
When the poet comes out to play.
True, I still am crazy,
No matter what I do;
But, at least, I won't be stifled,
Wearing that stupid mask for you.

© MadPoetnExile

Cross over for more poetry

If you browsed in from GeoCities, just close this window to return.

This background is provided courtesy of Misery in Motion