The creative mind hovers on the verge of madness.
Like marbles tossed on a tilted table.
They roll relentlessly towards the edge.
Unlike the mad who plummet into the darkness below.
The creative are restrained by an unseen hand.
And from their table top vantage point,
They form the words to comment in verse.
On the world they see around them.
But at times their words are jumbled and strange.
One wonders if perhaps the unseen hand,
Should have allowed the marbles to be lost,
For often the babbling of the mad,
Makes more sense than the lucidity of the creative.