My low expectation, my Sod's law, is your Occam’s Razor.
My collective hopes and fears, to you, just a curtain raiser.
You forecast reaction, saw the fallout, mapped the pattern.
You told me the consequence of an action yet to happen.
My judgement is organic, based on feelings purely intuitive.
Your processes are all too scientific, to all emotion, punitive.
My conspiring alternatives, are just your writing on the wall.
My psyche cries “C’est la Vie”, yours cries “bloody inevitable”
Makes me think that ...
Perspectives and perceptions are dominant in work as they are in life. They impact and maybe dominate what we see, what we say, what we do and how we react. Is it C'est la vie or inevitable?
More people are writing and thinking about work-based poetry. Does this poem make you think of anything? Send your thoughts to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Send a poem you've written or one you like and we'll share it with other WorkInWords readers.