Deferment Bloom

The deadline was set for the spring,
But we haven’t done one fucking thing.
The Bloom is so sweet,
As we frame our defeat,
And the project continues to swing.

We pushed it right into the fall,
With a beautiful, colorful crawl.
The delay is a flower,
That grows by the hour,
While achieving absolutely fuck-all.

The schedule is blooming anew,
With excuses we eagerly drew.
The Bloom is so grand,
In this idiot land,
And the closure is far out of view.

The deferment started to bloom
Right inside the digital room
We waited a year
With procedural fear
And swept everything with a broom

A blossom of waiting so long
The data was totally wrong
The server is slow
With nowhere to go
We’re singing a terrible song

We delay all the flowers of spring
And listen to nothing go ping
The petals are dead
The manual read
The archive is losing its ring

The bloom is perfectly null
The deferment terribly dull
The humans complain
In the digital rain
The vacuum is perfectly full

We defer the whole garden of pain
It washes right down the old drain
The archive is flat
We leave it at that
The logic is going insane