The Boss

You wonder who’s the boss species?
Us, Homo sapiens? You sure?
I know of few who’ve kept us slaves.
For them, there’s much that we endure.

They make us work in heat and rain.
They make us bring them food from far.
They make us take them round the world.
They make us question who we are.

To some extent, I understand
The hold that some of them exert.
But some are just too genius
To make us put so much effort.

The Theobroma cacao
Whose pods are bitter, taken plain –
Has somehow learned to rule our hearts
By tying up with sugarcane.

You feeling low? It’s there to help.
You feeling high? It’s there to share.
As ice cream, shake, and bar and cake
And mousse and truffle and eclair.

You screw up? Count on it to fix.
No gifts in mind? Just go with it.
And if someone says they don’t like,
You know they are a hypocrite.

The point is, when I talk like this – 
I’ll lecture on your chance remark –
I may not let you speak a word,
So, shut me up with chocolate dark.

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