(BDYBIS) Poem: Drive

He is the office sycophant,
His forelock firmly tugged.
Kissing bosses posterior,
Until his laptop is unplugged,

Yes sir no sir,
Three bags full to boot,
Somewhere he has his own opinion,
Cept the volume is on mute,

He is striving for promotion,
I almost hope he wins,
From where I sit it’s difficult to see,
Where the boss ends and he begins

It would be nice to have his drive,
His passion and his front,
But on the other hand,
It’s nice not being a total…

Whole new meaning to seat with a view.


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