Her name was Jeena
She was the office cleaner
Everyday at the break of dawn
She collected rubbish from the lawn
Just all part of her daily chores
Even collecting half eaten apple cores
Such a fastidious woman was she
Always on the go like a bumble bee
Everything went to her daily plan
At the end, everything was spick and span
Not anywhere a speck of dust
Even the pots and pans had no specks of rust
Office staff came and went
Never noticing how Jeena’s time is spent
Years rolled on without any delay
Until that one, final, fateful day
The dishes and pans lay where they last stood
The smell from the toilet was not so good
Waste paper baskets overflowed to the floor
On the lawn outside, there was even more
The boss’s anger threatened to explode
Red faced about to self implode
He started to rant and rave
Not the normal way to behave
His voice got much meaner
“Where” he shouted “is the office cleaner”?
Staff just looked at one another so blank
He shouted “someone call security, ” his name was Frank
Arriving on the scene, pasty faced and hair so lank
He did not know the whereabouts of Jeena
He had been there all night, and had not seen her
The office junior whose name was Joe
Was sent to clear the toilets overflow
As he opened the broom cupboards door
Lying spread-eagled out on the floor
Jeena’s body, which moved no more
It seemed she had slipped and died, upon an apple core
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Many a time, the effort is not noticed. We R not content with what we have, and wake up only to find it's too late. Good write and a great Heart