The boss

You’ve got that air of importance about you,
One can tell from a mile you’re the boss – 
I see you walk past and think to myself.
You never rush – commercial, off-the-shelf,
checked shirt and jet black hair.
‘Alright?’ – you’d even manage, on the rare good day,
but to make eye contact – that’s simply not your style.
Your attitude is condescending, at the best of times.

Objectively speaking, you are handsome,
and even close to what I’d call my type –
if only you could sometimes smile!
The world’s upon your shoulders –
the PLC board meetings
and those permanently cash-hungry investors in the city.

It’s all about the damned sales targets,
about stakeholder value,
the volatility of markets,
and, sure enough, the profit margins.

Penny-pinching rules;
morale is low and staff turnover – through the roof.
But wait, there’s more important stuff:
the Christmas party!

As I conclude, I wonder what would make you see
people as an asset and not a liability.
I glance into your office and there you are, 
in the imposing chair,
inspecting balance sheets,
checked shirt and jet black hair.

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