In - Tray

The in-tray in my office,
With it I’m obsessed,
It seems to be demonic,
With evilness possessed.
No matter how I toil,
The documents push or pull,
Every time I turn around,
It seems the bastard’s full.
I grab paper by the handful,
Do work by the reams,
But it grows faster than I work,
Or that’s the way it seems.
But I have a plan in mind,
All my wishes to fulfill,
I’m going to remove the paper,
And put in a hundred dollar bill.

Well, if the money multiples like the paperwork ...