On meeting Socrates


It was the end of the day at the old folk’s home,
he had spent the last two years of his life indoors, in this room
he had refused to take his meal in the dining room
together with the old people, this was at first refused, but
after a few days and fearing for his safety, the relented and
served meals in his room, for which he had to pay extra.
Lately, he could feel life seeping out of him; he had taken
to his bed, no, he wasn't hungry but drank some tea.
He thought about his life and as usual, could not make up
his mind, had he tried too hard, or had he not been serious
enough was he just a gnat seeking the lamplight or a tiger
prowling the jungle of words, he giggled over the tiger thing.
His feet felt cold, thought of Socrates who had been forced
to drink Hemlock, he said the death started with his feet
crept upwards till it reached his heart and sudden as a gust
of wind blows out the flickering light of life, he died, and would
never know whether he had taken himself too seriously or not.