Cubicle Poem by Flo Biz
Cubicle
Her cackling laugh
It drives me nuts
It makes me want to choke her
And then I hear
The bitchy one
I try not to provoke her
The chatty one
On personal calls
My head I'd like to bury
From way up front
The half deaf one
Her shrill voice sure does carry
Griping, gossip
Snickering, snorting
Feuding and long phone calls
It'd save my ears
And headaches too
If only I had real walls
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 6:53:06 AM # 1.0.0.1119
