The Boss

White tiger, there, why do you stare At me so haughty still, As if you truly just don't care And never, ever will? As if you lack the heart, the grace, Proud of your stubborn streak, As if you think you own the place And that you're quite unique? White tiger, pause, think of your flaws, Consider rights and wrongs, Like us, you must obey God's laws, As each to Him belongs... You didn't make the sun above, The planets or the moon And though today you look quite tough, We know we all die soon... White tiger, please, let all pride cease, Be humble, now and then, For everyone on Earth agrees, God goes back, way back when... We've been around a few short years, We know that well because In life, we've shed our share of tears... So, tell me... Who's The Boss? Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2013. The poem is based on the magnificent painting by Stephen Gayford called 'The Boss'.