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The Plaque
They gave him a plaque
to hang on his wall
and not one person had come to call.
He had worked at his desk
8 hours a day.
He'd worked with diligence
and earned his pay.
He never took sick time
or called in late.
He punched the clock
and pulled his weight.
He looked at the plaque
that held his name
and all that he had done
was within that frame.
Outside the frame
was the shell of a man
who'd missed out on life
since his job began.
No pleasure, no fun,
No friends had he made.
He sat and stared at the plaque
and prayed,
'Please God send me a friend.'
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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