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The Manager, A Poem

I have been writing stories since my children were little. I included them in the stories and they learned to read and love it.

The life of a manager is difficult at best.

The life of a manager is difficult at best.

The Poem-The Manager

The poem below talks about being a manager with the good and the bad that is included in the job. I think it might be how many managers feel during the course of their days; over-stressed, over-worked and over-stretched. It stands to reason that many will become hardened over the years.

It is hard to understand how much a manager goes through in the course of just one day unless you have been there. I was hoping to enlighten more people about the job, and the people. Most managers are people just like you and me who have families, pets, kids and a job. They feel happy, angry and sad along with us. And they can smile, something I hadn't known until I worked for this manager.


The Manager

The alarm goes off, I raise my head.

I want to stay right here in bed.

I hate my job, that part of my life,

with all the stress and all the strife.

The customers gripe, the employees grumble.

Where do I go when my world crumbles?

It’s time to go, to face them all.

My family says, “Hey, have a ball!”

I get inside, I say “Hello!”

“Can I speak to you?” an employee asks real low.

Already it starts, right off the bat.

I haven’t even hung my hat.

I’ll listen well, ‘cause that’s my job.

But sometimes it is really hard.

Then all at once, from out of the blue,

a customer smiles; an employee too.

It’s worth the effort when I see-

my employees trying hard for me.

They do their job. They go all out.

I don’t have to scream. I don’t have to shout.

So the next time someone says to me,

“A manager, I’ll bet, is hard to be!”

I’ll smile real hard, knowing deep in my soul,

that my employees care which was my goal!

Why I Wrote the Poem

Many years ago, I was working in a grocery store in a management position. The work was hard and the customers often very difficult to deal with. I handled many of the customer complaints myself and did my best to avoid calling my manger since I felt that he had a lot on his plate as is and didn’t need to deal with the petty stuff. One day as I sat in the office taking care of some paperwork, my manger came in and sat down beside me. He placed his head in his hands and slowly shook it.

“I’m exhausted,” he said sadly, “the pettiness, the arguments, the bad attitudes, the childishness of these people, it is unreal. And that is the employees. The customers are worse. I sometimes hate to come in to work because I just know I will have to deal with those things all over again. It never stops!”

I smiled knowingly. “I know,” I said trying to cheer him up, “I can just imagine how you feel.”

“How?” he asked looking curiously up at me.

“Because,” I answered grinning, “as a mother, I deal with those very same issues every day.”

“It’s not the same,” he said sighing as he rose to answer a page.

When I went home that night, I wanted to try to give him something to smile about. I liked my manager and hated to see him so low. I wrote the following poem, typed it up on nice paper and brought it to work. When he came in, it was sitting on his desk waiting for him. He picked it up.

“What’s this?” he asked beginning to read.

He read it once and a smile crept onto his face. He looked at me, smiled again, and reread the poem. Then he turned to me with tears in his eyes. “That’s just how it is!” he shouted. “I mean right to the letter. How did you know?”

“I’m a mother,” I said grinning with pride, “and that says it all.”

© 2011 Cheryl Simonds

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