Barometer Reading

Am I a nimbus cloud on a black horizon? Am I just a jobsworth, a passerby? You seem to have a page-turning smile but put on ice. At a glance, that false charm cools to frostbite, Your face a wire fence, through which everything- Appears visible but nevertheless-remains foreign Atmospheric pressure builds around you, unbeknown- The air itself around you is electrically charged. But you don't seem to care cos you're the boss You make managerial decisions negatively charged. You manage the inclement weather, your hearts a broken barometer. You make managerial decisions based on profit and loss. I have to remember again & again, you're-the-boss And offer my best surly smile, no matter the cost.