This may seem inane,
But what does it mean to be insane?
The answer's not legally defined,
Nor is the fate of the mind,
That once committed a heinous act,
And, must now, face that fact.
Most people do not understand
What it takes to take the hand.
Of someone who, while mild and bland,
Can wreck havoc upon the land.
And so we cast them out.
As fits our need--erasing doubt.
We shun them, burn them, bury them deep.
There is no time or place for compassion’s keep.
We cannot learn from their desires.
We loathe the thought of their raging fires.
But who among you has not been depressed?
Who has not, at some point, been obsessed?
Then cast the first stone and move on,
Throw them in prison and be done.
So what if they're brilliant with unique ideas,
The world is filled with crazy zeals.
It is easier for us to cast them aside,
Than to live with insanity and abide.
Just maybe, with faith, trust and love,
One soul might rise above.
And rejoin society as a full member,
Regardless of what the disease has engendered.
There but for a fine line go you and I.
Shall we strait jacket or let them fly?
It’s our fear we are tying up.
Copyright 2002 © Ronald W. Hull
Read War's End, the Novel