One Last Poem for the Inspector

Ah, I had to dust off the quill and offer one last ode to you. The wheels turn slow, but they get there in the end.

The Inspector, with Regards...

Once there were ten, what a great team,
Then our momentum ran out of its steam.
It wasn't the market, or a new drug,
Nope it was our manager, he pulled the plug.
On our ambition, our spirit, our fire,
Working for him? The situation was dire.

He'd come to a field ride, never would he fail,
To deliver a droning fifteen minute detail.
He would get quite angry and show his dismay,
If you didn't deliver it on a call in just the same way.

We lost Sarah, we lost Lisa, Seth and Ricki.
We lost Tim, we lost others, damn was he real picky.
He ran off the old, and the new and the best,
He's a good manager? Ha, you say that in jest.

Now we have all moved on to bigger and better things,
Your monotone voice, just a bad, distant ring.
But today I come back, to finally clean the slate,
And to celebrate your justified fate.

Good luck JP, and with complete vitriol,
I remind you...just control what you can control.

One Last Poem for the Inspector