Socrates

I’ve got something in common

With all of those kids you see in movies

Who lie together and watch the stars

And wonder aloud

Frozen in that moment of calm contemplation

Underneath all of the skin and bones

Are inquiries

Deep down all I want

Is to lie and ask enough questions

To outnumber the stars in the sky

But who likes a daydreamer

Socrates was put to death for being one

No one likes an airhead

Someone whose mind is full of those big fluffy thought bubbles

Gets called out in class

Drawn back to the lesson

I can’t call myself a professional daydreamer

My thought bubbles have to be reshaped

Forced into rigid lines that add and subtract

Great expectations are keeping me grounded

My head is out of the clouds and instead

Buried in books

I have to work hard and think

Think

Think

In case you were wondering

I am a philosopher

I ponder

I wonder

I question day in and day out

It’s as simple as a

W

H

And

Y

But simplicity doesn’t draw scientific conclusions

A question mark left alone

Means we don’t know the hero’s motive

So instead I raise my hand in class

And give answers

But maybe one day

I’ll find myself a patch of grass

And some stars

And I’ll have a chance to fill the sky

With my question marks