The Unwanted Office Spectre Returns

A carpet swish is all that's heard

Glass doors blush and part again

A troubled phantom enters

A million misrable Mondays enter in

Now as then, you tread alone

And at you desk be seated

A lonely spectre all forlorn

Nowhere else to go

You push the pen again

Checking the souls of the dead

The living do the same

Purgatory punctuated

By the droning of the dead

As every reason is ignored

A bean-counting pen-pushing living morph

And a haunted soul co-exist.