Corporate Parent
Defying the old saying, I come with a manual. Even with a safety check, 3 or 4 annual.
My authority and saviour, what are your dreams for me? Benefits in place, licence for my TV?
Must you always qualify my successes and my falls? Could you think my mind, just as fragile as yours?
You have faces who care, I see them sometimes. I see the frustration of keeping in lines.
But parts of you know only what paper reveals. And I don’t know what you look like, because you’re not really real.
Our bond, more the contract kind. Less hand holding, more ink. Numerous outsourced surrogates; heavy bags, my kitchen sink.
