Board Room Politics Poem by David DeSantis

He speaks,
we listen.
I find this to be a totalitarian regime.

Thirty years behind him
and the confidence to back it,
we fear, while we worship,
and we turn to for guidance.

Loyal soldiers are we.

He leads through inspiration
and always starts with a joke.
He is
a good student of politics,
and all things that work.

Quietly I analyze, hoping to work.

Open palms outward,
his communication says acceptance.
And always he first asks
before issuing an edict

most deem fair.

I take mental note.
Gesture, tone, and command,
from him I can learn much,
his knowledge, innate.

Never does he lose temper
nor does he brag.
In humility there is command
like a just king
whose subjects are his family.

Number two is shorter,
a stocked bull of a man.
thirty years behind him,
i understand how
they came up together.

One in the factory and one a degree,
the bull has plodded
forcefully,
never relenting
or backing down from what he knows to be true

yet always just.

Just like one of the workers,
number two would never
demand anything
that he himself would
not find fair.
Yet i've seen his anger lit
and within it is a rage
that in clarity proclaims:
'I am not a worker, I lead, you follow'

He is always aware
of the bottom line,
and even as a titan of a man,
he too must defer
to the end of the table.

I often wonder in these meetings
what it is that makes
a leader lead.

favoritism and favorites
are not always to be.

In them are intangible qualities,
some would say
even from birth instilled.

Like carrots and sticks,
To lead through inspiration
you must be aware of your command.



Copyright (c) David DeSantis