Bureaucrats Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Bureaucrats

As always, everywhere
(When the man is paper)
Offices, prisons
Workers named "Bureaucrats".

Shutters down; behind desks
They sit in cubicle with pictures.
Husband, wife, children or lovers
Among them, they joke, laugh.

With people they are cold, they are dull
Stupid; they are dumbs
They play or backbite with delight
Till time comes: "Let's go home; it's over."

Between them and people
No feeling, no remorse, no divine
All they know is paper
Flip through and skim; or read them.

They're heart-less; have no mind.
Can feel them behind the wall
Some whisper some laugh loud
On this side hearts beat up.