Marching Orders

I always obey all his orders,

And never try to transgress my borders.

But, he always treats me as toxic waste,

Probably, I think, that is his taste!

His attitude is so domineering,

When I stand before him, I lose all my bearing.

He feels, ‘he’ can ‘never’ make a mistake,

And, whatever he gives, I have to take.

He sits right in front of my nose,

And still, doesn’t know his foes.

He thinks he is too smart,

When I tell this to my colleagues, they fart.

He is my boss, and he gave me marching order,

I retorted, either he or his mind is in disorder!




© 2008. P. Mohan Chandran. All Rights Reserved.

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