ODE TO THAT WHICH IS NO MO’
The winds of change have mustered strength and slammed us from high above,
They’ve swept the land of all we knew, life changed with a mighty shove.
A top company gone, best of the best, we scratch our heads – much puzzled,
Wanting to rant, blame and curse and yet we still feel muzzled.
Where have you gone, you days of yore, when money flowed like water?
When anything was possible, competitors were simply fodder.
Expense accounts? Hell, no one cared, we’d simply charge the client.
No task too hard, we had the staff, no need for self-reliance.
Travel, oh travel, the horrors it brought, time wasted on the ramp.
The only solace was First Class, Grey Goose making dry mouths damp.
Wall Street called, we’d answer them telling stories of glory coming.
The analysts loved us. Markets marched to our hollow drumming.
The balance sheet, the P & L, no finer works of fiction.
But all was well, we’d make it right. Next quarter would beat predictions.
Accounting, Sales, Executives, Production, yes, and Legal,
All were doing rather well. Net worth soared like the eagle.
But now the wind has flattened us, swept away our golden glow.
We’re lost , adrift, left pining for that which is no mo’.