“Bang” go the drawers, cabinets shudder and squeek.
Filing paper isn’t for the meek.

“Swish” goes the paper, old, yellow and frail.
Years and years of recorded snail mail.

“Hum” says the shredder as it chews its fill.
It dreams of a life in a paper mill.

“Ouch” says the admin, she has another paper cut.
And the darn old drawer won’t stay shut.

“Click” says the drawer, as it finally closes.
Filing papers isn’t a bed of roses.

Twenty-eight years of paper headed for the trash.
Stop and watch the culture clash.
The old want to file, and the young want to toss.