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Poem

I was placed by my peers as a Consul of Rome,
Teeming city it was that I'd always called home.
My fair wife was a slave I'd seen fit to set free,
But she chose to instead make a husband of me.

The gods seemed to smile upon us from on high,
And my only response was to merely ask, "Why?"
And the crowds in the streets adored me so much,
They beseeched me for mostly a look or a touch.

But I then was appointed Dictator for life,
Which the Senate saw only as a reason for strife.
They were wary of all that I did and I said
Out of fear that it somehow would leave them all dead.

So they hatched out a cowardly plot on my life
Which was shown in a dream to my faithful young wife.
I was lured to my doom, nonetheless, out of trust
In a "friend" whom I thought to be noble and just.

But these jealous old traitors guessed wildly wrong,
For, the love of the People flowed surpassingly strong.
And they chased all these killers completely from Rome
Touching torches to more than just one costly home.

By Apollo I bid you to see what derives
If it's in your own breast that green envy survives.
If you hope to extract what you want with a sword
You won't have long to wait for your own just reward.

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