Away from the office you may pine
To endless green slopes, against horizon’s line. ”I’ve GOT to be there! Let’s ditch
this mine!”
”Myself on the ninth hole, I want to find!”
This cubicle he wanted to discard like lint. The five on the dial should’ve given his boss a hint.
But he only requested more documents to be print Which all served to lengthen his stint.
He hoped to dump the task on one of his ‘neighbors’ With fingers crossed, he’d pass along that ‘labor’. ”No, seriously…I’ll pay you back later!”
His task on some intern (he tried to drape her).
She didn’t fall for the lies from this ‘shark’
And knew his feet on the golf green, he wanted to park. His nose ‘grew so long’, it started to arc
Hope flew away on the wings of a lark.
His chances now seemed cast in doubt
Even his golf club trophy, seemed to pout.
The fertile ‘soil of possibility’, experienced a drought Favors from others, he’d have to tout.