Thursday, January 31, 2013

Muddling Through

It's time for the morning huddle
More like a morning muddle
Sulky faces all around
One voice is the only sound
Someone needs a rib-crushing cuddle.

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The sound of those steps send all into a run
That's the end of any joy and fun
Don't talk, laugh or even smile
It will be a black mark in your file
Working under the barrel of a gun.

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Let's all play the blame game
Find someone to point at and shame
That's the way to run a team
Knowledge shines like a beam
Every day always the same.

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