Man, the Joker

"I am naught sans the insanity harbored within!"
quipped the joker to his chin
and he wrote down with his pen
all known forms of sin
to clear his mind of its wind,
for his is a struggle constant, one that with every birth begins
it's a fight, a battle, a last resort with gin
it's a fight he'll fight with kin
and it's a fight he'll fight with his own skin
but it's a fight he'll never win,
for we are naught sans the insanity harbored within