Very Bad Poetry

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Poem 1058

Very Bad Archive

Woman at the Office

Bob Jones

She waits by the office door
To pounce and feed upon what shreds of self-esteem
Might still cling to my bruised and beaten bones

Day after dreaded day I enter
Cringing, ready to recoil from the silent assault
Of her mocking and accusing glare

“Good morning Bob” she hisses as I enter
A cruel lilt in her voice
A stabbing, staccato delivery in her words

Darkly, a shadow descends upon my soul
As I brace for what I know must follow,
The verbal coup de grace

“How are you?” she spits, softly
As if she cared, as if my very existence
Could elicit in her more than just a passing disinterest

Silence falls heavily,
Words come to mind, quickly discarded,
Time stops, breath suspended

In a space between heartbeats
I find the perfect rejoinder,
“Fine,” as I slink to my desk to suffer another painful day

Bob Jones has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Bob's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Bob's latest works:

Hey Culligan Man!

Submitted Nov 8th 2008, 16:54

Can You Hear It?

Submitted Oct 29th 2008, 12:02

Woman at the Office

Submitted Oct 27th 2008, 14:09