Crazy Or Genius? Poem by Md. Ziaul Haque

He is different in his words,
In thoughts,
Ever on the go,
Endeavouring to prove, to show.

Perhaps far behind is the society,
From the way he,
Himself is treading on,
It shall recognise his worth once he's gone.

Times gone by abound,
With instances everywhere found,
Of the geniuses being called mad at first,
And hailed for their contributions at last.

Worry not my friend,
I'll be with you like a shadow till the end,
Forget not that the same society,
Shall treat you as a King for your glory.

Keep on doing the luminous works,
Keep on leaving the marks,
You shall reap the harvest someday,
You shall be the centre of the sprinkled ray.