Placed on a pompous plate, my farewell cake
Looked as listless as my colleagues waiting to leave,
Polite words were vouched, more for goodness' sake
Than truth's, I recall that eventless eve
When eased I was unto my life's late eve
Called retirement, an edge of precipice,
A web of old memories to re-weave,
Warm words when felt like frosted cubes of ice.
When cake tasted bitter with sweet icing,
Cold drinks warmed by hype and hypocrisy,
A pomp-enwrapped packet when lay waiting,
Pretentiously packed as to look pricey!
A toothless tiger was being set free
To fade, after long weeks of cajoling
To win over an averse die-hard me
For a farewell after some arm-twisting,
When virtues were extolled alien to ears:
That, I would be missed for long time that comes
By all— colleagues and peers and superiors—
Ho-hum that failed to add up to the sums.
My value was when mouthed without a pause,
I cut at last the cake amidst applause;
Yea, I remember well my farewell plight,
When I'm supposed to slip into life's looming night—
An edge of precipice called retirement,
When overnight I felt like a force spent!
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To be fair to the company I worked for, my farewell function was nowhere as dull as this piece might suggest. But the truth is: I do not like farewells, soaked as they are in hypocrisy. I tried to avoid this one as much as I had many before, but failed. And a routine had to be gone through!
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Tongue-in-cheek | 02.02.13 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Aniruddha, such a well penned heartfelt poem....10+++
I found this feedback unacknowledged, my apologies, let me wish you very happy 2019.