Minute Velvet

The meeting was full of pure spite,
But the notes make it look so polite.
The Velvet is spread
Over things that were said,
So the VP can sleep through the night.

He yelled at the team for an hour,
With a face that was totally sour.
But the minutes just say,
“We aligned on the play,”
By the Velvet’s upholstery power.

The facts are all covered in plush,
So the conflict is reduced to a hush.
We hide all the grief,
For the boss’s relief,
And the truth is tossed into the brush.

The minute was covered in fuzz
The server forgot what it was
We wrapped it in red
And put it to bed
And listened to digital buzz

The velvet is soft and unseen
It never arrived on the screen
The human is wrong
The error is strong
The archive is empty and lean

We recorded a minute of plush
And threw the old file in the mush
The logic decayed
The payment delayed
We waited around for the rush

A velvet procedural gown
Was wearing the server right down
The error was logged
The system was bogged
We put on a procedural frown

The minute is perfectly null
The fabric is terribly dull
The humans complain
In the digital rain
The vacuum is perfectly full