eight to late

They tell me my job’s on the line
I think it’s for real this time.
The bosses, they say,
“Your job’s going away,
it’s heading for sunnier climes.”

This time it’s gone really far.
I reckon they’ve been reading Carr.
Who tells us that IT,
is just a utility.
Strategic it isn’t, for sure.

Consequences of centralization -
servers in another nation.
Miles away from here.
Too far, I fear;
QoS goes to hell - “Oh damnation!”

Every little bit and byte
traverses a long and thin pipe.
All the way to our users
who’ve become snoozers,
waiting for docs from last night.

I know the circle will turn.
But not before users get burned,
by rotten support.
They’ll see it’s a rort,
then bring the whole darn thing back home.

If you enjoyed this piece, you may like to read my project management tragedy in five limericks. Feedback is welcomed via your comments.

I’ve written a project tragedy in limerick form earlier, so I thought I’d try an elegy this time.

Those interested in sampling a real elegy written by  a real poet will do well to read Elegy on the death of a mad dog  by Oliver Goldsmith, instead of my sorry attempt below. Anyway, for what it’s worth, here’s my first (and I promise, last!)  elegy commemorating the failure of a project.

All ye PMs far and wide,
listen to this tale.
Of a project gone awry,
and verily doomed to fail.

It started many moons ago,
with a project plan
mapping how to reach the goal
within the time in hand.

Requirements were discussed,
in meetings way too long.
Where many stakeholders fussed
over details right and wrong.

The small and petty arguments
over matters rather trifling,
stalled signoff of documents,
causing a delay in starting .

Then all went well for a bit,
as deliverables were crafted.
Until, alas, the tech lead quit,
to the competition he defected.

The PM hunted high and low
for a replacement.
But despite the perks and dough
there was no applicant.

Progress slowed to a drag
as the days went by.
Team morale started to sag
and there was no wonder why.

The PM was soon commanded,
to explain the sorry state.
The powers that be demanded
his head on a plate.

So ends this tale so drawn
of a PM and his team.
Fortunately I woke this morn,
realising ’twas  a dream.

With many changes we had to cope
Deadlines near; no money, no hope.
There was no way to wrangle,
with the iron triangle
of budget, time and scope.

The project was  in a mess.
The reason I could only guess
was the carefully constructed
schedule was busted,
thanks to a dodgy WBS.

When called to explain the delay
I told the sponsor to pray.
When he asked, “But, why?”
I said with a sigh,
“On the critical path the tasks lay.”

He said to me, “This can’t be true.
There must be something you can do.”
Shaking my head
in sorrow, I said,
“All that remains is review.”

And now, I’m not in his pay,
You see, I was fired that day.
So, I exhort you all,
to stay on the ball,
and don’t run your projects this way.