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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Listless on plate waited the farewell cake, So did most colleagues— eagerly to leave, ‘Pon vouching polite words, bulk of them fake, I still recall that routine tedious eve, When companies to old wards send-off give. When eased I was unto my life's late eve Called retirement, an edge of precipice That left me with old memories to live, Warm words when felt like frozen cubes of ice, When virtuous turned many an old vice. When cake tasted bitter with sweet icing, Cold drinks warm by hyped up hypocrisy, A pomp-enwrapped gift packet left waiting For evening to end rather hurriedly, When a retiree’s life’s lowered mid-sea. When toothless tigers, poor things, wait to fade Into vacuum, cajoled for the farewell, A send-off all the more sinister made, A routine has to be done and done well, Style and form over substance must prevail. My virtues too were extolled— news to ears: That, I would be missed for long time that comes— By all, colleagues and peers and superiors— Ho-hum that failed to add up to the sums, In tune nor tempo, strident beat loud drums. Yea, I remember well my farewell plight, My value was when mouthed without a pause, Just when I slipped into life's looming night, Clicks before I cut cake amidst applause, ‘Old foggy’ who ‘a pillar of strength’ was! I recall that farewell night of long ere, An edge of precipice called retirement, A torture of hollow words hard to bear, When overnight I felt a force nigh spent, The night I acquired in my gait new slant. ________________________________________ Quintain (Tongue-in-cheek) |02.02.2013| remember Poet’s note: To be fair to the company I worked for, my farewell function was nowhere so dull as this piece might suggest. But the truth is: I do not like farewells, soaked as they are in hypocrisy. I tried to avoid this one as much as I had a few before but failed. And a routine had to be gone through.
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