WORK PRESSURE

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    WORK PRESSURE

    A topache rising
    The need rising
    I went to and fro
    Doing same thing again and again
    Boss never satisfied
    A cross here and there
    The final touch now a draft
    I went to and fro

    A period pen pointed there
    A comma to come after
    A “S” sent to the front
    Another “S” seen skipping to the front
    Grin on his face
    Could this be his final draft?
    Data changes to be
    Boss satisfaction at rest
    Machine don’t mind the changes
    My topache brewing higher still

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    PrecientPoet commented on WORK PRESSURE

    01-25-2009

    Keep plugging, and keep quiet. Some people call it Karma, I call it God.
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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