Pious is the madman, who lives here;
His abode ignored but litters the world.
Platitude, a Proffessor that goes there,
To seclude from the kind his world mould.
Crazy in his rags and papered home,
Pious welcomes his regular guest’s tale.
The rotten egg welcoming the bone;
Like a dog, he shows off his one tail.
They converse about a news item;
The learned Prof reads off his News daily.
Forwarding arguments befitting them,
Each reasoned man’s folly mainly.
Teachers sought reason for the sane,
Making sense of theories as realities.
While the insane do the very same,
Realities as theories are certainties.
In ostentatious escapades of the mad
Roams religious virtue so uncommon
And in sanity’s commonness easily had
Grows the loose morality we do summon.
Embedded in their platonic briefs
Is the story of their common child;
Man’s common sense and beliefs,
Are like madmen’s, when all are blind.
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