He struts and swaggers as he walks along
Full of himself to the brim
If you ask about the state of the world
He say it's all about him
As he moves along the avenue
He's impressed with the scenery
In the windows his reflected image
About what life is supposed to be
He talks about his work and his family
His hobby, home and friends
About himself his favorite subject
The discussion never ends
When you talk to him of your concerns
You speak to a blank dead face
His mind has gone off elsewhere
Any thought of you quickly erased
He has daily instructions for all of us
Our place in life's symphony
He's a self appointed conductor
With positions for you and me
He presents a package so neat and nice
Wrapped in glitter and gold
If we all behaved as he wants
We'd all fit into his fold
From a point of view looking down from above
A Higher Power might say
Can't my people see this won't work?
Each can't have it their way!
Great message here (as usual!) Very good poem Ray. Sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Self-centred people are what drains the world of compassion. Lovely. Susie.