The (Final) Words of a Madman

Disclaimer: This is a purely fictional approach on the world.

Don't take it too seriously. Please. Enjoy, though. :)

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Is it possible for one to see the thin line between insanity and sanity?
The same line that keeps madmen locked in asylums and babies asleep at night?

If so, is that:
What kept me from screaming in libraries?
From running people over behind the wheel?

Is that:
What kept my tears from rolling down my cheeks?
From talking back to 'authority'?

Is that:
What kept me from shoving people running down a flight of stairs?
From hurting them? From laughing for their misery?

I belong in a madhouse.
You do too. We all do.

- - -

Then why are we free?
Why do we have the liberty to do what’s ‘right’?

“Abortion’s a capital idea!
Not all babies are future virtuosos, you know?”

“That person’s in a lot of pain. He said he wants to die.
So why not finish him off? We’re doing him a favor.”

“Don’t burn Styrofoam. You’ll just cause Global Warming.”
“Yeah, and you’re the Queen of Narnia,”

“WHERE ARE MY KIDS?! WHERE ARE THEY?!”
“Tom! Get out! You’re not sup-”
*BAM!* *BAM!*

- - -

Whoever said “It’s a jungle out there.”
At least s/he’s got the right idea.

So how should we approach this dilemma?
Should we wage war on the weak and support the strong?
Should we be hopeful and smile, thinking the world might catch on?
Should we go to the moon and start over, building a smaller but better utopia?

Or, should we just end our lives right here, right now?
It hasn’t changed in a century, so what are the odds of it changing soon?

Should we be optimistic: Always hoping, always smiling.

Pfft.. That mask isn’t fooling anyone. At least, not anymore.

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