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.