Between the stand-up phone calls
and across the office floor,
you wave to folk you hardly know
except in these four walls.
By overcrowded kitchen sinks
we share a laugh or two.
Awkward small talk, Monday mornings
“Yea, I’m good, and you?”
We sit in groups and chat at lunch
about the week we’ve had,
and Netflix shows you’ve got to see
once you’ve finished Breaking Bad.
Through every boring meeting
and biannual corporate do,
forced friendships soon turn genuine,
the falseness becomes true.
These strangers who surrounded us,
now irreplaceable friends.
We go for drinks outside of work
and party at weekends.
We bitch about the boss man
and rant about our pay.
Through Skype, Slack and funny gifs
we while away our day.
But lo, on LinkedIn you did spot
a job that’s made for you.
It’s better than the one you’ve got.
You apply, and get it too.
Your notice has been given in.
Your last day is in sight.
You hit the pub with all your friends
and promise to stay tight.
And still the years go by and by,
our lives continue on.
New colleagues and new kitchen sinks,
new parties, jokes and fun.
In moments you’ll look fondly back
at times you have embraced
strangers who felt like family,
so easily replaced.
You raise a glass with your new team
but secretly you toast
to friends of old workplaces past
to whom you’re but a ghost.
So make new friends but always heed
the office friendship lore,
when bonding over email, waving
across the office floor.