I’ve tried to put out flames by feeding them hours 

Which I bail frantically, aiming to stay afloat. 

The more I labour, the more fire devours 

My time won’t smother the blazing won’t dry the boat.  

Though one should stop the other, you’d think 

This ship does burn, and this ship does sink 

Meanwhile, I am driven to the brink. 

Stood on the last planks before I drown or burn out 

I finally notice that something pierced my pail. 

It’s a strange relief to know beyond any doubt 

Diligence is not enough to prevent a fail.  

Yet shame speaks up, accusatory: 

“All those with virtue know victory 

Were you they, your toil would see glory.” 

True, it’s a poor worker indeed that blames their tool 

When results won’t appear, when deadlines are not met. 

It’s a poorer patron that hands out ridicule 

Not knowing the quality of tools workers get.