Lament On Impediment Poem by Margaret Alice

Made a mess of my production sheet,
administrators might think I am trying to
be mischievous, actually I’m plain stupid,
looking at a list my brain starts to decay
and I go cross-eyed, I try to visualize the
delight of everyone should I make a success
of this little thing

But it doesn’t help at all, I can’t see myself
receiving a harp and white robe as celestial
accolades in heaven for good administration
on earth, when Elizabeth told Mr Darcy they
were both not willing to say anything unless
they knew it would be remarkable, she was
speaking for me too

Unwilling to expend the uncontrollable flame
in my mind on jobs that have no other meaning
than a game of Monopoly, whenever confronted
with lists of numbers in statistics to determine
averages, my head fills up with lead and I start
to sweat, reading self-help books to overcome
my impediment hasn’t helped yet…