Out til two last night, it was a good night
The poetry went down well, I thought it would
Met a nice girl too, she knew me by sight
And she reminded me we had chatted
Before in that very same pub's back yard
I remembered her then, she's an artist
Maybe we'll meet more before time has sped
Back to today, although without much rest
I bombed through my workload, while talk near ceased
I sense tension, though why, really not quite
Sure. Is it to do with me, or just hard
Work being done, with pressures now increased
On people to reach objectives? The plight
Will worsen soon, I fear things won't be good
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