Locked in an
insane
            asylum
they are called crazy by all.
Sitting, sitting, staring;
Ranting about aliens,
watching the toddler
    float, floating
in the air in front of them.
On a schedule,
    tick, tick, ring
goes the bell.

They believe what
       you
or I
will not.
They see the world 
the way we 
       never
will.
"You're delusional,
up is up, not
       umop
Wrong is wrong,
       not write."

But what if,
not impossibly,
for the
             better,
not him
or her is delusional,
but
       you
or I?