Would I dream, if not of peaches and cream?: A poem 

Would I dream, 

if not just of peaches and cream 

but tribulations of an upward stream? 

Would it be just a little gleam? 

Would I believe that the sun hides after sunset? 

Did I venture to make it seem this sacrifice is like a bet 

that prevails over everything, yet? 

I’ve never been the lackey of untruths 

Did you think the mud rose above my boots? 

If the scum wants to feed on the fat of my selflessness, 

How should my eternally-long tresses regress? 

Do you smile at my bravery? 

Does anyone smile at all? 

I am not liveried, nor am I uniformed to inform 

My freedom to act is not a myth, if you think (wrongly) it is at evil’s dispensation 

My lie is a trickery to the vilest chicanery 

And you should know that I have taken all your punishment and cruelty 

It didn’t dissipate my glory 

It is easy to crossbench and not fight for the benchmarks  

against the watermarks of treachery!