Meeting Hell

I would venture to say that like them or not, meetings are 90% boring and ineffective. My mind usually wanders off in Attentiondeficitland. Here is a poem that I wrote while actually in a meeting:

Meeting Hell
By David E. Selvin

As I sit here in this meeting,
My mind's attention span is fleeting,
I contemplate actually retreating,
From this place in meeting hell.

But from the clock, it's click and clocking,
My state of mind, it keeps on mocking,
My inner scream, to me, is shocking,
As I hallucinate the ending bell.

Still, I came with no allusion,
Complicit in my blind collusion,
For my schedule’s planned intrusion,
That I’ve come to accept, but dread.

I arrive and check the seating,
Politely smile and say a greeting,
Knowing sanity will take a beating,
Within the confines of my weary head.

Still, although, I'm stuck here sitting,
My stomach lining must be pitting,
A straight jacket soon just might be fitting,
And only time will surely tell.

I hope a response is not required,
They might notice sanity expired,
And ability to reason duly mired,
My interest level a labored sell.

I awake: Is it a nightmare?
I catch myself with an insipid blank stare,
Hearing talking though the stale air,
Not all sure where it’s coming from.

Try to focus. What is the topic?
The planner’s plans were quite myopic,
My mind is on an island tropic,
My body sits here limp and numb.

I hope I don’t get called to answer,
My pulse would rise as if a dancer,
My body pained as if full with cancer,
Reacting like a hammered thumb.

A sympathetic nod of head,
Seems to follow just what is said,
But an EEG would read out "dead,"
An indication not all is well.

I'm not sure what I gain from training,
For what topic that it's pertaining,
The whole experience is very draining,
My angst is what I need to quell.
My angst is what I need to quell.