Work Poems: Undercover Agent Poem by Margaret Alice

Every time I do something at work
I am reminded to make a note for
the next round of assessments –
my first reaction is no, I won’t; I
only I did it because it had to be
done; to bring everything down to
a Brownie point system is bad for
my grumbling soul; I don’t want to
compete in the rat race, doing all
things with an eye on the trophy
to be won; to elevate every job
mundane to the status of profit
seems too hypocritical to me; I
normally manage to forget all the
inane things I’ve done during a full
day at work; actually the question
should be: How do you rate your
mood while you were busy; did
you manage to create a feeling
of fun? If you enjoyed what you
did, award yourself ten, if you did
it unwillingly, your soul suffered
a loss and you’ve earned zero; I
would receive mostly zeros along
the way, but at least I’ll know what’s
happening to my soul - isn’t that
what life is about – since we are
non-physical souls incarcerated
in humanbeingdom trying to have
a physical experience; mostly
failing miserably in the area of fun –
next time I run down the passage,
I will be an undercover agent on
a secret mission for a special
someone, and I’ll have loads of fun!