5/09/2014

Donuts: My Turn

It was my turn to go to the donut shop,
But I had no time and could not stop.
The future looked bleak and pastry-free;
I dreaded going to work.

I slowly opened my building’s door
Climbed the stairs, feeling bad, more and more,
Walked past the cubes and the offices,
Feeling like such a jerk.

When what did my drooping eyes perceive,
But something I could not scarcely believe:
Two boxes of donuts were there on display;
I was saved by a kindly co-work-
er.
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