Crazy

Crazy — a kaleidoscope of thoughts,
Spinning like a top in a summer bazaar,
Where reason tiptoes on the edge of madness,
And sanity wears a polka‑dot scarf.

In the garden of the mind, daisies shout,
Their petals unfurling in neon riot,
While clocks melt into marmalade sunshine,
And tea cups dance to a jazzy, loony beat.

We laugh, we weep, we chase the rainbow’s end,
Finding wonder in the wonderfully absurd,
For to be crazy is to see the world
Through spectacles of pure, unfiltered delight.

So raise a cuppa to the delightfully daft,
To the bonkers brilliance that paints our days—
In Britain’s grey, we find our brightest hue,
In the glorious, glorious chaos of being mad.