your presence is a hinge

upon which, a man's life swings

you stand...poised in the middle

awaiting decision...

demanding respect

wielding authority

and, depending on the inflection

sway me...push me...throw me

into the illusion of control

who gave you such power

arrogant in manner

mocking...

teasing...

coaxing...

pleading...

demanding attention

as if choice

could not survive

without your approval

mediocrity...

greatness...

past...

present...

future...

all, summon you

begging you

to carry me to them

without you

I am stagnant

without current

without direction

without hope

you hold all the cards

refusing to fold

raising the stakes

knowing...

I cannot read your face

if you betray me

I cannot avenge myself

I have no choice

but, to wait

for you to deal

the next hand