While researching 18th Century Internal Audit literature, I stumbled across one of my favorite poems, "I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud". How could I not share it with all of you?
That floats on high o'er vales and trees,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of beaten auditees;
Beside their desks, upon their chairs,
They looked askance with broken stares.
And twinkled on their broken dreams,
Their cubes and offices aligned
But there would be no more big schemes.
One hundred saw I at a glance,
They hoping for a second chance.
Had no controls, were running free.
A poet could not help but say,
how poorly ran the company!
I gazed—and gazed—with but one thought
What wealth the auditees had lost.
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
The poor and stricken multitude;
I’m glad I’m not an auditee.
Posted on Jul 6, 2010 by Mike Jacka
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