A Rhyming Sort of Poem

I thought I would provide a break in our normal programming of sad-ish sorts of poems to share a bit of whimsy I wrote for my boss today in honor of. . . some of the sorts of things we, um. . . come across. It is not so much good as it is written in a rush with the help of a rhyming dictionary. When I e-mailed it to her, here is what I said:

Here is my poem
In your inbox so full
It kind of sucks,
That’s not any bull.
But quick it was written
On post-its and such
Between questions and answers,
Dr pepper and lunch.

And without further ado, here it is:

If I knew all
the kinds of Not Looking
and had a list handy
to reference and check,
I might see then
how you use so many
with whimsy and flight
and ne’er a regret.

There’s the Just Walking By
(you’re so good at that one)
and the Look But Not Read
(you’re skilled here as well).

There’s shouting and marching
and stomping your feet,
there’s plain old Denial
and Failure to Cede.

“It’s the law,” I explain
In the most patient of voices
You say, “Surely, you’re wrong!
There must be more choices!”

I’m sad to inform you
(Even if I wanted to help)
Regulation is binding
No matter how loud you yelp.