Every day at ten to three,
Be the weather wet or warm,
I doff my identity,
And assume a uniform.
Clad in this I sally out,
Cause considerable stir,
Order nobodies about
As becomes an Officer;
Freeze the surreptitious smile
With a chill severity--
Longing all the weary while
For the unregenerate Me.
But when my release is earned
And I am at home, secure,
My identity has turned
Unexpectedly demure.
Why? I enter rather late
And My manner when we meet,
Seems, I fear, to indicate
The repentant indiscreet.
I, thus tantalized by Me
Spend an irritated day;
Now the question seems to be--
What goes on when I’m away?