The Madman
I wrote this piece of poetry upon being inspired by some actual encounters. I was going to my school, and as I looked outside the window of the bus, I saw him and got inspired, he was a madman,but he had a beautiful smile. I kept encountering him, I saw him years later when going to college. My brother also saw him and he was also confused about his smiling face. So, I finally got the idea to write a piece of poetry about the life of a madman. Madness is something that is thought to be a disadvantage by many but I beg to differ and this poem presents my view of a madman’s life.
The Madman
He was a mystery
Walking around the streets.
He had a forgotten history,
An unknown seed.
His beard was long and uncut,
Hair short and dirty.
He was full of dirt,
Absolute lack of courtesy.
He walked fast sometimes and sometimes slow
With eyes following people of the city.
Everyone passed him focused on where they had to go.
That man could not differentiate between ugly or beauty.
His smile was long and consistent,
Ignorance is indeed bliss.
His problems were non existent,
He was not afraid of the dark abyss.
He had nothing to lose or gain,
Begged in the streets all day
Yet his face showed no sign of pain.
He survived without any source of pay.
The people of the city ran
Towards money and happiness.
The madman did not care for what he can
Do and what he can’t, he just lived with madness.
When the world was in a state of division
The madman roamed free with no fear or reaction.
Being mad can sometimes be beneficial
Over those who live a life that is artificial.
© 2016 Abhimanyu Gaur
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I love it! Your poem is very focused and descriptive on a type of person often seen on the streets. Well done, Abhimanyu.
Thank you Phyllis.
Great poem Abhimanyu. (On the 23rd line, it should read “did not care” or “cared not”..currently it says “did not cared”). A very good first post at The Creative Exiles.
Thanks John I will fix it.
Madness is not a secret, it befalls many, always lurking in the shadows waiting to spring upon us. Oh to be mad from time to time is a pleasantry not a sin. For much is hidden within a human’s soul and release often comes through sudden realizations of ones own senses within. Nicely penned dear poet I like that as poets we are observers of our surroundings always.
Thank you Vincent.
I enjoyed this poem. Among many other observations of this man and others on the streets, you showed us that they are not really overlooked, but purposely ignored.
“He walked fast sometimes and sometimes slow
With eyes following people of the city.
Everyone passed him focused on where they had to go.”
Thanks for sharing your gift with us.
Thank you for reading and commenting Chris.
Your poem conveyed a powerful message of understanding the strangeness in others and the need to care for one another.
Good one.
Thanks Cris.
I love the character you have created and the story. Thank you for such an enjoyable read. Jamie
Thank you, Jamie.