The company I work for does not have employees, It has FTEs: Full-Time Equivalents.
How can you love an FTE?
How can you love an FTE?
They’re cold and feel no pain.
They’re numbers on a spreadsheet,
An annoying financial drain.
How can you love an FTE?
They make us lots of money, yes,
But we could make a squillion more
If we could pay the bastards less.
How can you love an FTE?
A misplaced socialist ardor;
Money’s there if you sack a few
And worked the others harder.
How can you love an FTE?
A nuisance that encumbers;
Can they really have emotions
When they’re really only numbers?
How can you love an FTE?
It’s not as if they’re real
With wives and lives and puppy dogs
Who love and live and feel.
How can you love an FTE?
You can’t that’s very clear.
They are numbers on a spreadsheet,
So just forget them, that’s a dear.
◊◊◊
Optional last verse.
There’s no way to love an FTE,
That’s how they’ve been designed.
They’re pawns in a grubby chess game,
And to that I’m now resigned.
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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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And, yes, I have resigned.
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You've resigned? No wonder if you're just another figure on an Excel... Hope you've got something else to go to.
ReplyDeleteNo wonder you have resigned if that is how you are treated, it must be so discouraging to just be a number. I hope that now you can breathe a sigh of relief and look forward to an employer who will appreciate the wealth of knowledge you have to offer.
ReplyDeleteGood luck dear J Cosmo!
xoxoxo ♡
I felt you lost respect for the place quite a while ago.
ReplyDeleteWishing you the best in finding a more comfortable environment.
(for just a moment there, I thought it would fit to the tune, "What Do You Get When You Fall In Love?" but...not really.
ReplyDeleteResigning...a very different view from your perch than any I had seen. Without much in the way of responsibilities, I once clocked in 55 jobs into a seven year period.
Not that it was helpful on my "resume" except as a reason to elicit laughter. (so young I thought it was laughter WITH me)
But the point is, I'm still here.
And, sure. You can say I'm broke, don't have a car, live under another man's roof, and beg for laundry money...
so what?
I still draw breath.
Back so sore I think it would break, still, I promised to pick up a fellow with CP and haul him to church a couple few more times...
Lost my teeth...
Only have a bath tub and I am six foot five, about. No shower.
so...
do I have a point or am i just trying to outdo your misery? anxiety?
Point is, that face just above my comment here.
That gal loves me.
I love her.
It makes the difference, I think.
And...
I believe your balance is named Margaret?
The job means nothing.
Hope for the best...you're most of the way there, now.
Your poem shows that your resignation was for good reasons! There is something better out there, I am sure. My best to you!
ReplyDeleteYou could probably fit the title (but different words) to the tune of "How do you mend a broken heart?".
ReplyDeletegood riddance i say. here's to onward and forward to better things.
ReplyDeleteI am thinking that you should be giving them the acronym that is being SIUYJ and is meaning that they should be sticking it up their jumper.
ReplyDelete