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