Thursday, 1 December 2011

A poem about the Tea Manager

I wish I were a manager
With umpteen quid a year,
What a glorious life with a handsome wife
And never a boss to fear.

With unlimited powers and no fixed hours
And never a care to muster
(To go out and night and come back when it's light
Is an old managerial dastur).

With a bungalow like an old chateau
And a most expensive car,
A blooming toff with all day off
For that is what managers are.


Love it!

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