Yes-man


Lookin’ down your nose at me!
Like I’m worth less than spit?
I wasn’t born to kiss your ass,
as pretty as it is/I’ll tell it as it is.
You-want someone to toe your line,
echo your point of view?
(A) good little slave, without the chains,
well I’ll come clean with you.

No ma’am/siree, I ain’t a yes-man.

I’m proud to say I am riff-raff
from the poorest inner city.
I don’t care for you billionaires,
preachin’ loud while sittin’ pretty.
Your paper wealth can’t buy good health,
true love and plain respect.
May your black, black souls forever burn
when Satan comes to collect.

I may be poor have come to naught,
a speck in God’s/life’s great plan.
But a toadying lackey I never was

‘cos I ain’t a yes-man.

©23.4.2019 Andrew Robert Chapman

insignificant in life’s plan.
No ma’am, I ain’t a yes-man.

I ain’t paid to kiss your ass,
to clean up after you.
Your very own slave, day after day,
Your very own slave, without the chains,

well I hate to disappoint
I’m neither chattel nor lackey
If you can’t take it, don’t treat me
like I’m a piece of shit,
better start by firin’ me.
to fawn, flatter and toady


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