Crises

Crises

A Poem by Marshal Gebbie

Atmosphere is critical
Faces bead with sweat,
Eyeballs flicker nervously
Hands are clenched and wet.
Project beyond critical
Timeslot narrows down,
If there’s to be a future
It’s now we swim or drown.

Management are pacing
Their arses on the line,
Humour now is for the dogs
Long gone the laughing time.
Dawn to dark we labour
No time to count the toll,
Must surmount the crisis
Or desperate heads will roll.

Raving at the workplace
Ragged tempers flare,
Eyeballs searching frantically
Ideas tray is bare.
Job is blown to hell and back
Killed the bloody deal,
By Friday we’ll be on the street
It’s over ... damned surreal!



Marshalg
29 August 2012

© 2012 Marshal Gebbie


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Reviews

A crises is like the eye of the cyclone...people react just as you describe..

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Loved it! Great flow with the rhymes and easy to relate to. Thanks for sharing!

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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112 Views
2 Reviews
Added on August 29, 2012
Last Updated on August 29, 2012

Author

Marshal Gebbie
Marshal Gebbie

Auckland, New Zealand



About
Poem writer for the average Joe. Take tremendous satisfaction in creatively writing about everyday things and everyday people. Australian native who has adopted New Zealand and New Zealanders. Marvel.. more..

Writing