An Ode To Month End Processing
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul doth shudder, when you wander into sight.
Ends of Accounts to balance with tolerance tight.
I hate thee with a venom that doth amaze.
As we work 24 by 7, by sun and candle-light.
I hate thee freely, as one on whom doth fall the shite;
I hate thee so purely that at times my chest gets tight.
I hate thee with a passion that comes second to none
In my office, on the stairs even upon the crapper,
I hate thee with a hate that will not be undone,
With your lost reports and packed mail dot box
I could live so heartily with out your troubles,
On you Month End i Curse with the POX!
(i wanted to get a duck in there somewhere but it just wouldnt go)