A Deference to Difference

A deference to difference I doubt I can maintain,
Especially when everything is every way insane.
'What am I to do with you?' The thought is answered not,
Like all the many rationals and other answers got.
I try my best to rest, sort of, in humble peace in vain,
For all the reasons given here, and more, this is my bane.
'So flippantly he holds himself, and others in contempt,
'And yet he bids us respect him, for fate we must not tempt.
'He rants about a many thing, and then he shows he's wrong.
'He loads us down with other things, and more and for a song.'

An inference from insolence is that I am indeed
Just a meager, minor mind, in need of being freed,
For how could I have come upon a rule broken by time?
There is no way to end on top unless you start to climb.
'But what if I were to succeed in superseding waste?
'Could it be that ignorance reveals a truer taste?
'What about the other ones who break and fake this too?
'Could it be that you are wrong? I need to know what's true.'
And yet it is repeated more; what's more, it's said again:
“Others know the better way.” I say, “That's where I've been.”

Perhaps, perchance you could persuade that I perceive in err,
But certainly it can not be completely all unfair.
I must confess some bitterness, and praise for this and that,
But in the end the all of it is nothing but a gnat.
So convince me, if you can, of course, and correct me when I'm wrong,
But don't you dare look down on me as if I don't belong.
I am too young to give this up, too old to be walked on,
And so I pose a conundrum; a checking, queening, Pawn.
So “off with you, and with your head”, and other things like so.
I've spent enough of this lost night, and so to bed I go.