We work ourselves to death Day and night We pay attention to the tiniest detail And analyse everything with the utmost rigour We keep putting things off So that we can give our undivided attention To the project in front of us After successfully completing a humongous project A project that pushed our buttons And almost drove us to the verge of insanity We began another project After the barest minimum of a break And yet again, we've pushed ourselves To the very limit However, you've not uttered a word of appreciation On the other hand You only seem to be intent on nitpicking Correct this, correct that And blah blah blah Seriously, what does it take to satisfy you? Should we sprout wings and start flying? Or even better, should we wave a magic wand And cast a spell To ensure that each and every whim of yours is satisfied?
Poem dedicated to my boss who (it seems) can never be satisfied; as my colleagues and I are working on two successive projects.