Tick Boxes Poem by Philip Winchester

Tick Boxes

The sharpest pencil poised above your name.
Your life be lead, let`s see you play the game? .
The final tally twixt the points you claim,
Charity, Humility, Modesty, add to a big fat zero,
I hope I am in time to start this game again.

The sharpest pencil poised above your name.
Let me apportion prizes or unjust, unreasoned blame,
Your boxes ticked with pride and some with downright shame.
Who do you think you`re kidding? No points for Luck or Effort.
Without those Guys upon your side, One had better start again!

The sharpest pencil poised above your your very name.
This audit goes to prove, your working well within the frame.
Your corner, once it`s turned, will bring immeasurable joy,
Bring on board the tools you need laugh long and seldom cry.
Take success or failure and treat those imposters just the same.

The sharpest pencil poised above your very name.
Though you`ve sat there many times, I know your not to blame.
The points you have, the boxes ticked, hold you in finest stead,
The thrill to compose a poem, have it very quickly read.
No real reward, save just the written word a single claim to Fame?