I picked up the phone.
My hands perspired waiting for the news,
It had been a week since I last saw him,
When he judged me with his brown eyes,
As though I had no chance to begin with.
But here I stood – hanging on his decision
like a palm tree swaying in the wind.
This palm tree was not so calm,
Rustling leaves started to fall as
He said the words:
“I’m afraid you didn’t get the job.”
I thought I had the skills – why didn’t he want me?
Was it the way I stuttered in the interview
or the way I accidently called him Bob
instead of Bill, although Bob suited him better,
Was it the way I dressed, or was it just me?
“Ok, thank you for the interview” I replied,
I put the phone down, and breathed in
a sigh of momentary defeat.