On Hearing Of The Death Of A Former Colleague

The business of work stopped
When the sickle chopped
For you
Who
Knew
When
To wield a pen.
But you
Could laugh too.

How silent is the office now
That your paperwork is done.
The serious and the fun
All must
Blend
In the end
In dust,
And in the memories of we who live on
After you are gone.

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