Human Reseources

Colleagues are sort of these halfway-friends –
We’re thrown together, not self-selected.
In theory, we’re working to similar ends,
Or maybe we’re likewise disaffected,
But is that enough to ensure a bond ?
To safely whinge at the bosses together ?
Are workmates our mates ?  Or is that too fond,
If all we ever discuss is the weather ?

No, some of them, surely, are more than that,
Are more than just somebody else they’ve hired.  
The ones whose desk you find ourself at
More often that is strictly required.
Someone we might even meet on the outside,
Away from the phones and the morning train –
Until one of us moves-on or is downsized,
And we know we’ll never co-author again.

Colleagues are friends who we see in passing,
In the queue to pick-up a photocopy.
We snatch a few words, but no time for gassing –
Till next time we meet, while making coffee,
Or standing around with our cigarettes,
To talk about sport, and celebrities’ hair,
And the news of our cars and our kids and our pets –
Till one day we realise they’re no longer there.

No, some of them, surely, are more than acquaintances,
More than just people we spend our days seeing.
When our social circle is too large for maintenance,
Are these the ties that we won’t be freeing ?
So will we continue to meet them to talk with,
And not let them just be a face we forget ?
What happens to colleagues we no longer work with ?,
Our nine-to-five friends, once the long Sun has set.