Bartleby was a scrivener

A man who takes the firm dictates

Of people far more powerful than he

Could ever even hope to be

Bartleby was a hard worker

He’d copy documents for hours

Then recite them back at length

Requiring great steadfastness and strength

Until one day, the boss would ask

Him to complete a simple task

A paper needed to be read

He stood there mildly and said:

"I would prefer not to."

Bartleby was a placid man

No malice or anger in his voice

He very simply just would not

And soon, the boss forgot

Bartleby was a hollow man

With nothing human in his eyes

But soon his work continued on just fine

He copied over every line

And soon his work had to be checked

To see that everything’s correct

With everything prepared that day

He came out from his hole to say:

"I would prefer not to."

Bartleby made them furious:

The boss and all his fellow scribes

But even so, he never could be fired

It seemed instead that he should be retired

Yet Bartleby was oblivious

He never left the office now

Annoying those his little room abuts

And eating only ginger nuts

And soon, all this became routine

He copied things behind his screen

But when he’s called on to comply

Then, every time he would reply:

"I would prefer not to."

One day he stood, with hazy eyes

He said he would no longer write

But would not leave the premises

And so he stayed there, day and night

The business moved its offices

And left poor Bartleby behind

He still was not compelled to move

Was left for the new boss to find

And soon he found himself in jail

With no one that would pay his bail

And then, refusing to be fed

The warden soon would find him dead

He preferred not to