Cubicle Poetry

While I'm at the lake, having some drinks, sitting in the sun, reading and playing with an adorable little puppy, you all will still be fighting cubicle boredom so I thought it was only right to leave you with this gift: a poem. That's right, like Ryan in the first season of The Bachelorette, I wrote you a poem. Choose me.

Here you are then, Cubicle: A Poem (I was going to call it Cubicle: A Sonnet, but I didn't want to be confined to any kind of style you know?)

Essentially I work in a box
With security tighter than Fort Knox
God forbid we take 5 minutes more
To quickly run out the door
For a snack, shopping, medical care
Not here, we wouldn't dare
Two years ago I didn't know
The lengths that my managers'd go
To make my working life
Nothing but torture, hardship and strife
To ease the pain, I took up the pen
And tried to educate dozens of (wo)men
About the dangers of boredom and work
How much it sucks when your boss is a jerk
We've talked about rules, colleagues and booze,
Most days I'd rather hit the snooze
We all know I stayed for the money
To buy a place for me and my honey
I know, that line made me ill too
Turns out rhyming's hard to do
Now that I have a new home
I'll have to invest in a comb
So that my hair looks tidy and neat
For all the possible bosses I'll meet
Thanks for stopping by each day
And reading what I have to say
It took all week but Friday is here
Let's all have a drink and a cheer!

I'm sorry and you're welcome.