The Making of a Madman

I once met a man who was certainly insane. 

Intrigued, I searched for an explanation, 

Pondering the genesis of this troubled soul. 

   

I thought about his parents as being the cause; 

He never mentioned them by name, 

Solely referring to them as "those people." 

   

I tried to find out about childhood friends. 

He only talked about pets that he called "family;" 

Barely acknowledging that he was ever young at all. 

   

After speaking with him, I had all but given up. 

I had found no suitable answer. 

My mission failing, I accepted ignorance. 

   

In a final attempt to gain my prize, 

I asked him outright, "What happened to you?" 

Upon hearing his response, I shuttered at the truth. 

   

He told me, with no shift in his voice 

"What are you talking about man?" 

"I am a madman by choice."

© 2012 The Refined Poet. All rights reserved.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Surely if that is what being a madman is by choice - it has to be the meaning of truth.

[The Refined Poet]

appreciate the comment