Same State Poem by Isaac Yaw Osei

Isn't it all good that some people can grow mad?
What about those who cry because they're sad?
Or those who die for reasons we don't know?
What if they choose to go mad?
Isn't it good that you're at irresolution
When I have made my choice?
Should it be good that you are so special?
Much from your audience who are oddly special
But are mad and or dead. Isn't it good that I'm mad
Like you and we dwell in that perfectness I will
To that complex being we are once upon by age.
Isn't it good I lived once a pauper, a pawn,
Once upon a time your King or Queen
And now I am a state. I, still! Rule!
My model state you call I'm.
If the creature is too imperfect, would you mend it?
And so end it? Since not all addition perfects A-Z!
I hope someday someone joined us. If life was lived
The others to live, I could suck it proudly to live.
Then how grace the craftsman thinks to grace the rose? I know a way!
Must you gather? Leave it, rather. Smell, kiss, wear it at last, throw away!
Thus plucks a mould-flower, or fine things that efface their purpose.
If (I wish) I can clap, jump and shout to sing and dance, am I mad?
Where is destiny if I can't see to place value on it?
We live, we live life and we live it well where sometimes
Man has to be alone out of their dark distances.
We live thick and stumble over each other.
I think we lose some respect.
Prick this up to pick that up.
Prick this thing out.
Pick to prick that thing out.
Now, call special people And am there!
To my own eyes we stand accuse or we should?
So this's enjoyment seduction is referred herein!
Then, indeed hapi am call HAPPINESS.