s
urrounded by clowns
with faces of contempt
bodies
limp from exhaustion
from fail attempts (but still intent)
on costing me my promotions
through commotions of red tape
handshakes fake as politicians speeches
sipping pina coladas on beaches
through straws of fraudulent
campaign donations
kind of what i’m facing
c h a s i n g notoriety like
alcoholics c h a s i n g sobriety
and though i’m perspiring
your conspiring is not
the derivative of my sweat
but the validity of the stress
within the flesh of my pigmentation
facing execs with no ethics
using methods as traditional
as apple pie and the 4th of july
that’s why i keep my composure
and God even closer, my dossier
at risk, potential black list
though you insist
this time “i’m next in line”
to continue the climb
up the corporate ladder
but shall i hold my bladder?
or hold my tongue?
is this one more hung jury
foreshadowing the worse?
or just another performance
from the greatest show on earth
