The Mad Composer

He could be all alone in the middle of a crowd, And with no one around the voices were loud. There was little he did of which his parents were proud; The fog in his mind kept his thoughts in a cloud. His body developed though his mind never matured; Somehow he got through school always feeling tortured. He couldn’t survive on his own, the adults all concurred; Institutionalized he lived in a cage like a bird. But the music played on in his head; In a wide smile his mouth had always been spread. “We’ll be okay,” the voices in his head had said; To everyone else, he may as well have already been dead. She saw things in her wards no one else cared to see. She noticed that he rocked in such rhythmic harmony. She taught him the scales that he learned perfectly; Putting notes on the paper set the music in his mind free. His symphonies are enjoyed by people throughout the world, The genius in his simplicity has given many musicians a thrill, This mad man left to the care of one very special girl Who had the insight and caring to help his gift unfurl.