The Boss of Me
You're so full of yourself
Your head's too big
to see where you're going.
You've mistaken bumping into things
for making a difference.
You've destroyed your foundation
to boast ground-breaking brilliance --
but everything smarts when
you don't have a leg to stand on.
You'll need more than a band-aid
to stop the bleeding of abandon.
The trail you've blazed is a maze
of ego and God-complex;
your legacy, spread so thin, it follows you
like coked up rock star roadie sex.
Your power trip is over.
Your successors are cleaning up the mess.
You're washed up
and tumbling, a permanent press.
Yours was a reign
of lapdogs and catastrophe.
Mine is a mantra
that you're not the boss of me.