Who is mad?
Is it I?

But if I am mad then how aren't you?
Perhaps you are mad and I am sane

How does one know if one is sane?
How does one know if one is insane?

But is insanity a luxury?
Or is the luxury sanity?

What if one was sane but recognised the sanity as insanity?
Would one be insane then?

Or perhaps one was insane but to the eye insanity was sanity?
Would one be sane then?

What if sanity was insanity and insanity sanity?
Would the lack of clarity over insanity and sanity be but a normality?

Or is the true clarity that insanity is a normality?
For who is sane?

Is it I?
I, who dreams dreams and inner thoughts are most shy?

Who wakes when she sleeps
And sleep when she wakes?

Perhaps we are all in subdued insanity
If so isn't insanity a normality and sanity out clarity?

Or insanity is our clarity?
And sanity is a dreamed up notion for normality?

Who is mad?
Is it I?

Or the world in which there is no clarity over insanity and sanity?
And there is nothing but a formality which is normality which should or should not be insanity?

she left a mark on his SOUL

that looked a little like ROSE PETALS

in a blooming bouquet of LOVE
but when she had to LEAVE

the THORNS dug so harshly

into his HEART

that his LOVE for her

turned BITTER and COLD

like the harshest WINTER night
and the MEMORY of her CARESS
withered to DUST and ASH

and when she RETURNED

with her LOVE for him

made of BOUQUETS of RED ROSES

all he could MUSTER 
was a HATE for ROSE PETALS

and the THORNS on their stems