Dress Down Friday By @PhilipLeBrun
By Phil Le Brun
Dress Down Friday
Dust settles on the ground at Abbott Mead Vickers
Red-faced and sat in nothing but our knickers
Dress Down Friday but we didn’t get the memo
Thirty-four Inbetweeners with a ‘big problemo’.
Left looking flushed but we’re not playing poker
No one’s gambling on lazy or feeling mediocre.
What frauds, Watfords in the shadows of years before
Left in the dark without a key for the door.
Time for a dressing-down without a dressing-gown
Faces as blank as the deadest boardroom in town.
But there’s no Lord Sugar and it’s all gone sour
Shrinking into chairs with a whimper and a cower.
Young pups on legs with tails in between
Dogshit on paper and we didn’t seem keen.
The sharpest of our wits left blunted and dull
Walls bristling with work ready for the cull
Forget extermination we’ll badger and we’ll learn
Sometimes to grow, forests have to burn.
So we’ll stay rooted and keep branching out
Show biting, not barking, is what we’re about
You’re not you when you’re hungry
And my stomach’s started to rumble
Hard work beats talent, but you have to stay humble.