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The Leaving Party

The end of a career,
It's come down to this,
A smile, a frown, a tear,
A melancholy bliss,
Like Flight 370 I'll disappear,
Lost and left to reminisce,
On yester -yester -yester year,
My life as mentalist.

But first the ceremony of good cheer,
Eulogise me with cheap cake,
Managerial crocodile tears,
The 'huge' difference that I make (sob!),
'The loss will be so hard,
For us when you are gone'
For me the comfort of a padded card,
And hoping life moves on.

How will I be remembered,
When I walk away,
My working life surrendered,
To the petty power play,
Was it ever as I intended,
Echoes of things I didn't say,
Amongst the politics,
It made no difference anyway.

For now it's trial by pantomime,
Uncomfortable bonhomie,
But in the quiet of a future time,
I will smile at the hypocrisy,
Of a cosy- wished retirement,
And a beatific biography,
I'm surplus to requirement,

But thank God they've set me free.