Wouldst Thou Love Me Were I A Peasant (Sonnet)

Wouldst thou love me were I a peasant,

Owning little but what hangs upon my back.

I thinkest thou would not find this so pleasant,

Discarding me for all of this world that I lack.


Wouldst thou speaketh to me were I a leper,

Or ignore me whilst turning a blind eye.

I thinkest thou would prefer me fettered,

In shackles where none could see me cry.


Wouldst thou hold me if I were a poor wretch dying,

Alone and filthy on thy city thoroughfare.

I thinkest thou would leaveth me bloody and lying,

‘Til the ravens come to taketh their share.


Is compassion so hard for thee to perceive, casting feeling aside with nary a care.

Giveth from the heart and thou shalt conceive, a life full of blessing worthy to share.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~



Have you become so ridiculous

That you justify your ill actions and commentary

With the blanket phrase…“I didn’t know.”?


Has age taught you nothing,

No process of discovery,

No method to discern.


Did your parents not instruct you well

In the virtue of restraint,

Knowledge of right and wrong,

In common courtesy?


You speak and act as if ignorant of the consequences;

Lobbing pain, physical and psychological haphazardly,

Without regard for the well-being of your victim.


Even in light of your blunders,

You deem your flaming rhetoric insignificant,

Offering no apology, no embarrassment, no sorrow.


Portraying yourself as the fool,

Friends and loved ones distance themselves,

Hoping you’ll see the error of your ways.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~