There goes my boss,
With a wave of his hand.
No files to attend,
Only my head left to bend.
Status of job he asks,
Knowing well about pending tasks.
I say pending still and look down,
In my ears,ring his laughing sound.
Day after day,his face remains same,
I resemble a bird becoming a fair game.
Ask for a leave and his look goes sore,
Banishing him from thoughts isn't a bore.
God bless his soul,
One left with so little a goal.
In my grief his joy does reside,
I don't need a valley for I have long died.
A game now needs to be played,
One which will bring equality to life.
Till then my nightmares will occur,
In the edges of a sharpened knife.