Ode to a Manager

[OblivionWalker 308]

Oh you little man.
Controller of salaries,
Demander of laps,
Crusher of dreams
And miser of joy.
You make us take laps
If we dare to win,
Perhaps upsetting some plans
You hold close to your unholy vest.
But we resist.
We refute you.
We still win anyway,
Whenever we can.
The laps you make us take?
Make the blood pump harder.
The time we spend at the rink
Only welds us together more.
You think you punish us.
You think you will win
This contest of wills.
But you forget whom you have.
You know not who protects me.
I come from a long line
Of terrifying people.
The protector of the old country?
Is Baba Yaga herself.
I was taught to respect her.
I was taught to revere her.
I carry her symbol around my neck.
I carry her will through
The blade and the stick.
There is nowhere safe for you.
There is nowhere you can hide.
We will win, little manager.
We will win and there is nothing
You and your laps can do
That will stop us.
We will have our victories.
You will see your plans come to ruin.
We care not.
We heed not.
We. Will. Win.

 

(word count: 204)

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@N0HBDY

 

[N0HBDY 1,141]