A man with unkempt hair,
Walks in distrained fair,
Talks in incoherent language,
Violently crosses the barrage.
Jumps aloft the crowded spree
Creating an insensible free.
Do you call him Mad?
Nay not , quoth I,
His derangement reveals,
A list of upheavals,
That has led to an incognito,
Type of demonstrations surtout
Muzzled up to a rigging fiasco,
Attributing a 
tumultuous echo.
But in absolute reality,
Madness is a frailty,
Found in Strong minds,
Which nurture wicked grinds,
That exhibit ostentatious prime,
Harbouring deceit ahead of time,
Which propose a cunning onslaught,
That deploys acrimonious slot,
Impelling a danger severe,
Committing a deadly crime,
By conducting a cheeky dime,
Are the configurations Of madness.,
These we call, in no certain guts
Mad ,Mad nuts.
