The Mad Poet, Crazy, Angry, Or Both 

Am I a mad poet or a poet with delusions of madness 

I call myself the Mad Poet because I think I’m mad as in crazy 

But it just as easily can be because I’m angry  

Angry with the world  

Angry with people  

Angry with myself 

Angry at the injustice I see and hear 

It’s like that iconic line by The Hulk “I’m always angry” 

I’m always angry about something  

It’s like there is a seething ball of rage inside of me 

What it’s focused on changes from day to day from hour to hour 

But I’ve certainly got at least a touch of madness 

I’ve got depression, and the tortured artist bit down 

I’m sure I’ve got more in me but that’s not diagnosed so we won’t discuss it 

But I definitely have some flavor of the ADD, I just can’t remember which anymore 

Might even have a touch of autism but again not diagnosed so we won’t claim it 

Speaking of which why is it so incredibly expensive to get tested for stuff  

Right now, I’m seething that nothing is flowing  

It’s like trying to catch a greased raccoon 

Yes, I know no one says that but can you imagine trying to catch a greased raccoon 

They’re clever little things, fast, conniving, and lest we forget they have thumbs 

Wait where was this going the coke addled raccoon that is my brain 

He ran away to go wash cotton candy in the stream and left me holding the bag wondering what I was talking about 

I’d say at least he left me the bag but it’s rather empty just a bunch of half formed ideas 

With no flow 

So, my incomplete folder has grown by leaps and bounds 

While I’m stuck realizing I’m the Mad Poet in more ways than one 

Still I’ll take neuro-divergent over neuro-typical any day 

Which is such a misnomer 

What’s typical, what’s normal 

Besides boring as hell 

So, I’ll take being the Mad Poet over the boring poet any day