Paul the Bureaucrat

He stood on a railway platform to the city

Squinting through his glasses waiting for the train

His wife at home, an unwatered plant no longer pretty

At 9am he arrives at work in the rain.

 

At his desk he slurps his coffee for which he did not pay

For life is a mulligan, his doeover day by day

At 2pm he bothers the staff with unending knowlege

They politiely humor him, paying no homage.

 

With each passing week his faculties fade

His gait unsteady as his memory erases

Filled with terror his bed is now made

He paces the office, oblivious to the time that he's wasted.

 

Reviews

[Emily B]

a sad fate indeed

[Skelasoldier]

Nice description of office life, keep up the good work!