Tuesday, November 11, 2003

My Desk


From my desk, I look out the window,
Vertical blind hangs down, just like bars.
It makes it feel like a prison,
As I sit, and look out, at the cars

From my desk, I look to my left,
I see PC’s, working people, neatly stacked.
It makes me feel like a robot,
And I feel my brain has been hacked.

From my desk, I look to my right,
I look through the bars and the glass.
It makes me feel like a prisoner,
Watching people, in cars, as they pass

posted by Loopydoop @ 11:38 am

The bloke that I work for

The bloke that I work for ain’t a bad chap.
When I ask for promotion he says “not just yet.”

He gives me a smile when I ask for a rise,
“Sorry young chap – when you’re more wise.”

Then time passes; I love my wife and the kids,
I say to the boss “look I’m in debt - on the skids.”

He says he can’t help – can’t even try,
“Look at my overheads – they’re far too high.”

So I scrimp and I save,
I work and I slave,
I do as I’m told,
I start to grow old.

Hey boss I’ve worked here for years,
Since I was a lad – if I could retire I would be glad.

Sorry he said and nodded his head.
It’s cost a great deal to train you and hone all your skills,
If I let you go it will compound my ills.

I smiled – “about my promotion a job that is nice?”
He scowled “you’re too old – and don’t ask me twice!”

But I’m tired and depressed, working to make you rich.
“Get on with your work – don’t moan and bitch.”

The bloke that I work for is a really bad swine,
He thinks lack of dedication is a heinous crime.

Tied by my pension - stuck in a job that I hate,
Every day is a battle – I don’t feel too great.

Too old for promotion and stuck in my ways.
Too young for my pension and counting the days.

I’m stood in a hole, ten foot in the ground.
The sides are grey and smooth and round.

There’s no way out
There’s no way out

posted by Loopydoop @ 11:35 am

The hole (impotence)

There’s a hole in my door,
Where I stick my key.
Here’s a hole on the floor,
Is it a fan-ne?

She’s not easily shocked,
All inviting and warm.
Waiting to be unlocked,
By my cream horn.

I stand and look,
And take in the view.
She invited me to fuck,
But I got in a stew.

My hands they did shake,
My confidence did soften.
My urge did break,
As happens so often.

“Oh god”, I did think,
“Why’s this happening to me?”
Why does my manhood shrink?
When it shouldn’t be.

She thinks its her,
And I think its me.
This thing is a curse,
Will we ever be free?

posted by Loopydoop @ 11:32 am