Office Meeting

The stretched moments and the yawns I swallow are bitter Mr. Boss keeps rolling his eyes Sleep is camping behind my eyelids and I hopelessly endeavour to defeat it You can't blame me when everything smells like my grandma's afternoon tea My thoughts are galloping on his office walls like wild stallions Sleep is piercing my soul like geyser of water Mr. Boss shakes his hands in the air not knowing my horses' tails are tangled up on his index finger My horses spin like the Sufi men from the East My Laughter spills into the grim space of the office Horses neigh merrily and bite Mr.Boss' frown lines All is good now!