A Counterfeit Kind Of Control (H.C.F.E July 2003) Poem by DM W

They try to baffle and bamboozle me with secretarial speak,
Until my head is in pieces and my brain's on the blink.
It feels as though I'm casting proverbial pearls before swine,
In a sycophant's paradise of petty, back stabbing crimes.

What an insult!
What a cheek!
It smacks of the counterfeit
It reeks of deceit!

Bureaucratic bilge piled up on desks of disarray,
Leads to lots of bad feeling, depression and dismay.
O why do I have to suffer these ignorant fools?
Holidays not far off; please God make them soon!

What an insult!
What a cheek!

It smacks of the counterfeit.
It reeks of deceit!

I've given of my best; what more can one ask.
I've completed all of their mind numbing tasks.
But I'm gathering up my store of venom and bile,
To construct new forms of edifying rhyme;
To challenge all those engaged in the counterfeit;
Hiding behind their masks of deceit.