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.