They called me in, a somber tone,
"The numbers dipped, the board has shown
That trimming costs will pave the way—
Your job, my friend, must go today."
I smiled and nodded, shook his hand,
"Of course, I truly understand.
Could I have worked a little more?
Cut my lunch to half past four?"
Perhaps if I had skipped my raise,
And worked unpaid on holidays,
Or charged myself to use my chair,
The stock would rise—my fate more fair.
But now I'm free, no ties remain,
Just endless time to chase the gain
Of those whose wealth swells ever higher—
A noble cause: the board's desire.