A Poem For People Still Stuck In The Office

December 19, 2014, Article by Richard in Uncategorized

Richard Roper presents his (potentially) annual poem for the poor souls still left in the office, waiting to escape for the Christmas break…

We are the few who are left.

Lacking leave to take and

Colleagues to bake us

Uneven mince pies.


We are the few who are left.

We rattle Celebrations tins

With only bloody Bountys remaining,

Complaining about our lot.


We are the few who are left.

But don’t despair my friends.

Make the most of this time

By smuggling cheap red wine to your desks,

And be bereft of responsibility but

Get marginally tipsy.


Revel in this relative solace.

Picture the others (formerly smug)

Crammed into a slowly-moving

First Great Western trains consumed

By the fug of farts and despair,

People pulling out their hair rushing

To leave the city whilst you get squiffy

On a bottle of last year’s Sherry you found in a

Jiffy bag in your desk drawer.


We are the few who are left.

So sweep the office for

Discarded Secret Santa booze,

And use the time to sit, oozing

Gin through the pores of your skin,

With chocolate smeared grins,


In peace. Before the madness begins.