Buzzword Bingo
What once enjoyed as a profession,
Lost interest, no longer interested in the confession.
Removed from work by bureaucratic minutia,
Hours spent bleeding ink color of fuchsia.
So many hands in the pie,
Not even a scrap for mice, just left to die.
Resources drained before actual work starts,
All the hubbub without any heart.
Buzzword bingo fills the air,
Sounds really good, nobody cares.
Can smile at the use of lingo,
Exposes not as smart as a dingo.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
What once enjoyed as a profession,
Lost interest, no longer interested in the confession.
Removed from work by bureaucratic minutia,
Hours spent bleeding ink color of fuchsia.
So many hands in the pie,
Not even a scrap for mice, just left to die.
Resources drained before actual work starts,
All the hubbub without any heart.
Buzzword bingo fills the air,
Sounds really good, nobody cares.
Can smile at the use of lingo,
Exposes not as smart as a dingo.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
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