Mock Epic: The Courtiers Of The Cubicle Poem by ashok jadhav

Sing, O Desk, theater of whispers and schemes,
Where mortal Heroes, armed with pens and memos,
March through the perilous halls of Office,
And every smile may hide a dagger's glint.
Behold the Worker, clad in tie and courage,
Navigating the labyrinth of cubicles,
Where Alliances form like fragile bridges,
And Rivalries lurk in shadowed corners.
The Water Cooler, sacred altar of intelligence,
Bears secrets whispered, half-truths sworn as gospel.
The Emails fly like arrows swift and silent,
Carbon Copies drawn as spies upon the wall.
Meetings rise like battles, agendas brandished,
Each PowerPoint slide a siege upon the mind.
Promotion looms as promised crown of glory,
Yet treachery whispers in the supply closet.
Observe the Manager, oracle of subtle doom,
Issuing cryptic commands that shape destinies,
While Heroes decipher meaning in glances, pauses, tone.
One compliment, a blessing; one frown, a siege.
Trust is currency more precious than gold,
And gossip flows as rivers shaping the terrain.
Yet amid the chaos, some survive unscathed,
Forging paths of influence, patience, and cunning.
Victory may be quiet—a nod, an assigned task,
Or loud, a celebrated rise above the fray.
Thus ends the epic of Office Politics,
Where every memo, glance, and meeting
Is a battle in an endless, absurd war,
And mortal Heroes learn that courage
Can be measured not in swords, but in tact,
And triumph lies in surviving the intrigue.