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Today, I’m thinking how each crazy day
in this strange world of ours at March’s end
means there’s no need for April Fools’ cliché
as just one day to silly things pretend.

For every day is full of folly now —
a clown’s show for the sick truncated minds
which soak up anything that’s fake, somehow,
or any foolsome element which blinds.

Yet “mad as a March hare” would be the phrase
I’d use to thus describe what’s happening here,
while wilful ignorance becomes a craze
as insight and perception disappear.

The real April Fool, from what I’ve found,
is one who in false narratives has drowned.

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© Copyright, Alan Morrison, 2026
[The copyright on my works is merely to protect them from any wanton plagiarism which could result in undesirable changes (as has actually happened!). Readers are free to reproduce my work, so long as it is in the same format and with the exact same content and its origin is acknowledged]

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