what in us
the teaching thorn
the hardened rock
the wonted morn
for him
the swaying of a tender leaf
in his heart
and he dreaming
of suns far from our sight;
moments
which lost their light
in our lives,
for him,
the delights of delight
unfading
they made their homes
in his mind
and him a slave of love.
Casually Classical 
Hahaha 🙂
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My expressions in the poem should have induced some thoughts and kindred feeling for who we term as ‘mad’, at least in the likes of you… unfortunately, it evoked laughter, eh? 😀 Wonder why …
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