All philosophers true to the study will go mad some day.
But then again, it is Normal that defines Mad.


A love is lost, a heart is torn,
A dream unfulfilled and hopes shattered
We look back at that Past with dismay
We try to look at the Future with hope repaired

Plans not carried out, feelings hurt,
Emotions worn on the sleeve,
We believe we’re at our worst
And of us, happiness has taken leave

Can nothing go wrong, we ask
And despise Murphy for his pessimism
Things will get better, we then say
And then, at ourselves, laugh with skepticism.

Then we look to the Wise,
And hope for wisdom, but with faces forlorn
Instead, tell us what we’ve known all along
That Life, my dear friends, must go on.