Nonsensical Talker

I sit in the lunchroom at the office at work, And plan for the days ahead. When along comes a voice, I know way too well, That always fills me with dread. The time passes by, as she starts to speak, A champion of the vernacular bleak. But only words, they come out to torment me, As a string of nonsensical phrases said, With no real content available, like a hammer to nail in my head. You have to be polite, suck it up and pay attention For to not do so would be to your detriment As she goes on and on with her diatribe of sound Yet hasn’t said a thing yet. God, there are people who have an awful knack, Of making their mouths move around, I wish they had a point and could verbalise their thoughts When their mouths begin to make sound. 26/10/2018