I must get back to my desk again, this lunchtime has flown by,
And all I ask is that if I’m late, I won’t catch the boss’s eye;
And if I’m ill and white as a sail with limbs and body shaking,
And I call in sick (third time this month), my boss won’t think I’m faking.
I must get back to my desk again, and complete my tasks with pride.
Because if I don’t, I’m pretty sure my leave request will be denied;
And all I ask is that someday it’s acknowledged I’ve been trying,
And I get the promotion for which Smith and Jones are vying.
I must get back to my desk again, to the constant corporate strife,
I hope and pray my meagre pay can feed my obese kids and wife;
And all I ask is that today, the damned printer won’t keel-over,
And that retirement comes swiftly, so this nightmare can be over.
This here is my attempt at a comic poem about modern office-life/career. If you think you can do better, I’d love to read your work (email it to me: firstname.lastname@example.org). You never know, your poem could end up in 21st century Verse. But you’ll have to be quick, as the doors close for submissions after this weekend.
May the MUSE be with you…