In the sterile hum of office light,
There rules a boss with a sharpened grin
Command cloaked thick in discipline.
Where deadlines pulse and egos bite,
By day, the Mosquito buzzes bold,
A tyrant’s voice in meetings cold.
He flits from desk to desk, a whine,
Announcing wrath before it’s time.
He doesn’t wait, he doesn’t mask,
Each task a threat, each breath a task.
A critic cloaked in open flame,
No kindness shown, no hidden shame.
Yet in the pantry’s softer gloom,
Where silence breeds like office gloom,
The Rat begins its quiet round,
No stomp of feet, no warning sound.
She smiles with notes that seem benign,
Then twists your work in whispered line.
She praises light, but darkly spins,
A sabotage that softly wins.
You feel the bite but not the blow,
Till blame takes root and starts to grow.
One stings and leaves a swollen welt,
The other gnaws at how you're felt.
One wounds with rage, and one with grace
Both strip the soul, erase your place.
And worse, at times, they switch disguise:
The loud turns soft, the meek chastise.
Oh workplace realm, with padded walls,
Where kindness wears deceitful shawls.
Where some destroy with brutal force,
And some with smiles, in quiet course.
So guard your light, your peace of mind,
From those who bite in ways unkind.
For not all harm arrives with noise
Some come disguised as careful poise.
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