If you were raised by someone diligent,
impatient, who was born without or lost
the spectrum of emotions, one who spent
all time at tasks and voiced whatever crossed
her mind, but never said she meant no wrong,
intending well or neutrally at worst,
then you’d excel at understanding strong
self-referential bosses with a thirst
for adulation and attention’s glow.
You’d smile at non-sequiturs and nod
at solipsistic statements. You would know
that rearing individual is no god.
If you’d engaged with one like that, like me,
you’d know we’ve tactics but no strategy.