the Republic II

where Plato pitched philosophers as kings
he didn't argue it in the abstract
the neighbors must be fit for other things
he was himself the hero of his tract

none else could be entrusted to tell lies
that freeze the polis as if set in glass
where honest kings might even fortify
impulsive fools who'd 'improve" on the past

what's perfect must belong to days of yore
of which we glimpse mere shadows in our caves
distorted like oral-transmitted lore
where details morph 'though morals stay the same

embittered that no one begged him to rule
he cursed Athenians as slack-jawed fools