we who are mad,
do not carry the torches,
do not run through the night,
do not babble with tongues.
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I got to agree with you on this one. Madness is thinking inside the box.
Like it, I have been told many times I am mad, but like I keep telling everyone, it is them who is Mad and me who is normal, a great poem.
we who are mad consume ourselves willingly in the hope that light given may warm the heart of a few others