Goodbye, Cruel Colleague

Appearance was your entire routine. But truth is found if one looks deep enough. A walking good first impression machine, Yet something else when we cut through the fluff. If not a teammate, what is a colleague? No possible chance for a working team. You thought you were so far out of our league, Your sincere belief: You must be the Queen. So underhanded, thought you were witty, Stealthily swinging your velvet hammer. You guarded my back just like Frank Nitti, Knife-wielding in Kevlar body glamour. ‘Tween glamour and beauty the difference be, One illusion, the other genuine To conceal, from all who attempt to see The inner workings of your Janus mind. Botox, silicone, hair dye, and makeup Formed your outer plastic geometry. An eldritch dark lurked under the fakeup, Fearful spiritual dysymmetry. Your extroversion turned soul perversion, Leveraging venom out through the crowd. Backbiting, nastiness, and subversion Brought the resulting silences so loud. Spinning yarns, a bovine defecator. Although the specifics remain unknown, Twisting minds, a mental fornicator. If water ripples, unseen rock was thrown. A fell Disney Witch incarnate, it’s true, Adept at the ins and outs of culture. The bad element did flock straight to you-- Decay smells like gourmet to a vulture. But Karma is a bear, everyone knows Working at times slowly, ineffably Eventually your time bomb did blow. With no little schadenfreude, truthfully. Our faults can be found through introspection But not while there is a beam in you eye Ever in love with your own reflection Achilles Heel, the root of your goodbye. It became so clear, you were no fair elf. Over time, the whole truth will always out. Most couldn’t guess ‘til they saw for themselves The walls have eyes, ears, and certainly, mouths. A guilty pleasure, as I was so blessed Chatting with the chairman about work things, Standing there when your pager hit his desk Blessed relief! Oh, how my heart did sing! I’m not proud of my lack of sympathy Covered with grime from rolling in your muck. Your nastiness left me no empathy Just not my problem that you became stuck. After all, one thing yet remains with me Doubtful the impression you’d be wanting. Simply an abiding sense of pity, The emptiness of your life is haunting. All I can do is offer a prayer Up for you, but so I can heal from this. Open my wounds to the Spirit’s fresh air Having exposed my soul to your Abyss. 3/10/16