Furnishing Farce

How many men does it take to deliver
A table and several chairs?
You’d think I was kidding
The joke would seem hidden
The first one just ‘didn’t do’ stairs

With telephones trilling, the second, unwilling
Could not get the top through the door
The third tried to shame me,
And name me, and blame me
For furnishings to the sixth floor

Solution: to dump them on pavement
Just junk them – delivery over and done
Denying they’d tried it
(My boss wouldn’t buy it)
The whole thing becoming a pun

For what good are services that don’t deliver
The minimum bang for your buck?
While companies try
Not to fall for the lie
That the ground floor is somehow the top

One lump, or two?

Please, somebody make a decision
Before it falls farther than Fate
It cannot be me, you’re the boss, don’t you see?
Pretty soon it will all be too late

I’m only insisting to help us
Criticism’s not part of the plan
I don’t give a toss which you choose – you’re the boss
(Though we all get to carry the can)

It’s pointless, this endless debating
We’ve heard all the pros and the cons
You are dragging your feet in the chairman’s high seat
While morale at the company bombs

It’s hardly a life or death question
There won’t be a test at the end
Kindly pull up your socks, or you’re in for some shocks
From each stakeholder, colleague and friend

It’s not like there is a ‘right’ answer
So taking forever won’t do
The longer you leave it, the less we’ll believe that
The person who chose it was you