Much Madness is Divinest Sense

Much Madness is Divinest Sense
Emily Dickinson

Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye,
Much sense, the starkest madness.
‘Tis the majority
In this, as all, prevail:
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur, you’re straightway dangerous
And handled with a chain.

I really like this poem because it brought up the question of being normal and left alone, or being strange and "handled with a chain." It kind of reminded me of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest."
The poem is pretty straightforward to me, in Dickinson's eyes, to be mad is to be perfect because you are not the same as everyone else. If you agree to be "normal," you are sane and if not, you are unstable and dangerous.

I think it is cool that just about anybody can relate to this poem because everyone is different. Even if you did not have a life as strange as Dickinson's, you still can feel the same.

I noticed in the poem's structure that only "sane" and "chain" rhyme, but nothing else. I wonder if it is just a coincidence or did she mean to do that, because nothing else rhymes? Hmm