The Bench

You are every Engineer's dream,
every Engineer's nightmare,
You come and you go,
like the passing of wind,
from an obese behind,

Sometimes you stink,
sometimes you rock,
Oh! Why do you torture me like this?
I'm losing my mind because of your fits,

When work drives me to death,
you play hard to get,
When I'm sickly idle,
you nag me like a menopausal spouse,

Why? Oh why, dear Bench?
Why do you raise such a stench?


I'd love to read what you have to say, so please...