One needs to be fruitcake,
Truth be told a complete loon.
Or more madder than a hatter,
All clearly barking at the moon.
For histories mad and manic poet's,
Displayed dark derangement and notoriety.
Poets who all deserved to be certified,
Members of The Dead Mad Poets Society.
François Villon stabbed a priest to death,
Then was banished from Paris for his crime.
His poems were of such an intricate form,
Composed in notorious brothels of the time.
Richard Savage was a satirist and murderer,
Also a friend of the poet Alexander Pope.
And dabbled in blackmail and cruel gossip,
He died in a debtor's prison without hope.
Not forgetting the oversexed Lord Byron,
Poetry's romantic rock and rolling bad boy.
Who just couldn't keep it in his trousers,
Red wine from a human skull he did enjoy.
And Byron's very close friend Percy Shelley,
Would leave a trail of destruction in his wake.
A poet constantly in the need of more money,
And with women a no good two-faced snake.
Each poet both equally gifted and accursed,
Every one a mental paradox in a paradigm.
Crazy as a proverbial fox they all maybe,
But their poetry still stands the test of time.
