Email Poem

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Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

At work it was
slack- not much to
do,
The boss was out on
the prowl. 
We have to look busy
no matter what
His face was all of
a scowl.

I had the misfortune
to pick up a paper
A paper someone
bought for their
break,
The boss he saw- and
he descended on me
The shock made my
knees begin to
quiver and shake.

His name was Marsh
but we called him
Swampy
A more evil man
there never was…
I expected to end up
like a corpse from
Pompey
When to his office
he dragged me
because.

The fear made me
shake
And wind I did break
The smell permeated
through the air…
He stood looking at
me but I could see-
           to ask me
he never would dare…

My lips began to
twitch, my nose
began to itch
What on earth was I
going to do?
He opened the door
pushed me out to the
shop floor
The shock made me-
            nearly
drop a poo...

I heard a big gasp
He took a deep
breath in at last
I ran off before he
caught me again.

The lesson I learnt 
I know now why
matches are burnt
In small closets all
over the land…
But as I don’t
smoke, when I break
wind I choke
As I never have
matches to hand.

From that day forth 
Matches are in my
pocket henceforth
Swampy can catch me
on a skive if he
does like
But he never has-he
avoids me because
When he is around I
get out the matches
and strike….
MT

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