The Copier That Ate My Lunch

I used to work in an office where the copy room was so bad that it actually inspired me to write the poem below.  I taped this poem above said copier.  Unfortunately I did not see an improvement people’s behavior but the poem did manage to produce a chuckle from the copy room from time to time.

I went to use the copier and what to my surprise,

The “Add Paper” light was blinking right before my very eyes!

The paper cabinet was empty except for three hole punch,

I raced downstairs to get more paper and grabbed a whole bunch.

 

I filled the copier with paper, closed the door with a slam,

The message on the copier read “Clear the Paper Jam”!

I finally resolved the problem after searching all about

I pushed the copy button and the toner was all out!

 

The paper gone, the copier jammed, and out of toner too?

The person who used the copier before me left me a lot to do.

 

Back downstairs for toner.  This was certainly no fun!

With all of these problems I will never get my work done.

 

By now my lunch hour was over and I was in a bad mood.

To leave the copier in such disorder is undeniably rude.

 

If you find you run out of paper and don’t have time to fill it,

Please remember that you are not the only one that has to use it.

Also please clear your paper jams and fill the toner too.

Imagine how you would feel if someone left it empty for you.

 

If you are unsure about a jam or which way the paper goes,

Or how to put the toner in, ask someone who knows.

We all must lend a helping hand to each and everyone.

We all must work together to complete a job well done.

 Thanks for your cooperation

The Xerox 914 was the first one-piece plain pa...

Wuthering Heights

Oh distraught king of the moors
Your true love betrayed
Torn apart by blatant greed
You conspire your revenge.
 
Oh sorrowful queen of the moors
Your true love betrayed
His bitter heart lost to another
Your desire for life has ceased.
 
Sweet master of her soul
Her last breath taken in your arms.
 
Sweet mistress of his soul
Your wild heart has finally come to rest.
 
Tormented master of Wuthering Heights
Eternally haunted by love’s cruel wrath
Her lament beckoning you to her
Your tortured soul is forever free.