by Edmund Conti

It was one of those days
When a guy just needs praise,
Adulation and fawning and flattery.
When your deeds all amaze,
You just need all that praise
Like charging (if you are a battery).

So the duly anointed
(Those guys you appointed)
Are eager and ready and willing
To kowtow and grovel
In ways that are novel
With various tidbits of shilling

But it does give you pause,
All these bits of applause
As you glow in your underlings’ treatment.
Are you really as great
As these toadies all state
Or are they all full of excretement?