Plato’s Academy, in Athens City;
wars are fought; slaves are caught or bought;
idealist thought is taught.
Hear the air in the market-square
throng with Socratic dialogue.
I think and speak, but who will care
to hear a mere slave’s monologue.
An accident of birth determines our birth;
you stand proud and free; how can you see
my earthly bondage, lowly, lonely
outrage.
You talk of Truth, Goodness, Beauty;
is it reality, illusion, or collusion?
Is there really a place in your Republic for me?
Or is your dialogue deceitful delusion?
Poonam June 2018 November 2019 Version 2
No comments:
Post a Comment
Add a comment.