The Firing Line Poem by Ian Keenan

He was always smoking,
Afraid of what our
High-up bosses might be thinking
Of our skills.

Ian, our HR, more humane
As should he be,
A family man
And asking after me.

His secretary too was after me,
But cancer was her tragedy
Poor woman,
Never to have lived
Before she died.

But Gavin taught me one big thing,
That sucking up to management
Detracted from the impact
Of our P&L performance,

For in the end they pushed him
To retire,
The firing line dressed up,
A pleasant leaving do
His only sop.