Pleading Margin

You wrote “Please, oh please” on the side,
But the system was totally blind.
The filing was clean,
And incredibly mean,
And it left your despair far behind.

The form has no box for the tears,
Or the weight of your terrible fears.
You write in the space,
With a miserable face,
And they toss it away for the years.

The machine only reads the black ink,
And pushes you right to the brink.
The Margin is sad,
And it drives you all mad,
While the company continues to sink.

The margin was pleading for space
The data was losing its place
We squeezed the text tight
In the middle of night
And wiped the whole thing off the face

A pleading is never polite
It gives the old server a fright
The margin is thin
We throw in the bin
The error is painfully bright

We justified text to the wall
The meaning is starting to fall
The human is weak
And refuses to speak
We’re waiting behind a big hall

The margin is begging for air
The manual doesn’t quite care
We printed the file
And wait for a while
With absolutely no kind of flair

A margin of error is vast
The future is stuck in the past
We plead with the machine
But the screen remains clean
The silence is going to last