The Way To Work And Shirk Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

It's drudgery, not office work that hurts,
To know it well you need be no Dilberts.
To some dead routine work's meant for losers,
Choicest of perks are whilst parked for winners.

This ditty may pay me next to nothing,
Haply I write still— rains or sunny spring.
But my job must pay me— be it farthing,
We all hate to work what's not to liking—
Where, boss behaves— among pigeons as cat,
Who feeds on poor suckers and gets so fat.
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Tongue-in-cheek | 04.05.2019 |
Topic: humour, work