Author's Notes: This poem is what I think may have been the final thoughts of Julius Caesar as he died; they are based upon the play and what I learned in Latin class. Incase your curious the title, ēhue, is Latin for 'Oh dear'

No it can't be,

Why do they attack me?

All those I that I did trust

Now attack me with such lust

As bitter steal bites skin

I look upon one I consider kin,

Brutus, the one I consider my son

Does he comprehend what they have done?

As I stager towards him,

He looks grim.

He draws his dagger, oh good,

He'll help me, and stop the spilling of my blood.

Oh no! He plunges the dagger into me,

And upon my lips, dies my plea.

Today was not my day.

"Et tu, Brute?"