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A Poem: The Consultant's Message

by bernt & torsten

On a Friday, cold and gray,
The message came, sharp as steel,
Not from those we built beside,
But a stranger, paid to deal.

Words wrapped tight in policy,
A script well-rehearsed, precise,
Two months' wage to take and go,
Or less, if we dared think twice.

Years we gave, through storm and strain,
Believed in missions bold and just,
Yet in the end, all that remained,
Was a balance sheet and broken trust.

No farewell, no hand to hold,
Just a severed line, a bolted door,
Told we failed, though truth be known,
It was they who failed us more.

ROI, their only creed,
Our names erased without a sound,
No weight to care, no time to grieve,
Just numbers moved, just staff shut down.

And yet, we stood through fire and tide,
Through war, through plague, through fear, through fight,
But power’s whim, a leader’s pride,
Made us ghosts before the night.

We call for voices, call for light,
Not just for us, but all who know
That loyalty is not a line
On an investor’s profit show.

So hear us now, before we fade,
Before the next ones take our place,
We built this house, we laid its frame,
We are more than just a cost to erase.