Sunshine at the end of the corridor
Like a daisy approaching on feet
Good news and nothing more
That's what the others meet and greet
A smile and a look worn like a crown
And the subjects know all too well the grace
A person who looks up and never looks down
A recognizes that each one has a name with a face
In other boardrooms where decisions die
The good boss carries the staff of a warrior
And decides to fight the dungeon dragonfly
For the sake of those who await his score
Defeated, comes up with the winning wand
And touches everyone's heart not their purse
Everyone is able to have the worst best dealt hand
Because the good boss does not death rehearse
Victorious, the good boss spreads more than sunshine
The good boss plants the seeds of a prosperous memory
Once parted ways, the credit cards corroded design
The good boss remains the best friend in history
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem