Air in Mysterious Places

Young pretenders so deep in dread
When bosses call them “that airhead.”
Some use insult intend guide you round
Some up egos when others put down.
Young airheads rising cook good ideas.
They sense their value no need for fears.
Thoughts in heads some thrive on air
Bosses forgive them was Master’s care.
There used to be one air. There is now one sog.

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