Beyond The Bound of Sanity

It is interesting when he displays, Not in our compound: what a dismay! He laughs when people are mourning, In the night, all he sees is morning. His best dress is in rags, Sadness laughs: what a tag. He talks to himself alone, Seeing his flesh in a bone. Junk is his delicacy: that's his favorite, All his views are black in the light. Awkward, with no reward, Backward, with no return. He applauds inside the molds, Lunacy is all his fun. None of this will be our portion, Watch everything with caution.