Mr. X

He tried to sell his soul
But found no buyers at his current price,
And so he took a role
With contract language vague and imprecise
That promised him some raises when
The corporate ship came in,
A thing that he’s still waiting for:
To happen – or begin –

He tried to buy some royalty
But couldn’t raise the fee;
And so he built a palace
Out of his calamity,
And bought some fancy lights and plants
To see who he could fool:
But everyone still recognized
A whinging corporate tool

He felt so done by hard,
So disadvantaged —
It’s hard to fail at failing, but
He’s managed

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “Mr. X”

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