The Cocky Boss
I work for a cocky boss
With whom I can never converse
He always has to have the last word
Everything you say to him appears absurd
He speaks like a judge in a courtroom
Your every word dissected and doomed
He walks aright and with a swagger
In his pocket a hidden dagger
Waiting to dissect the unsuspecting specimen
With cynicism he awaits his next big luncheon
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