Recourse Cushion

You filed an objection with rage,
But it landed right onto the page
Of a cushion so thick,
That it made you feel sick,
And locked your complaint in a cage.

The objection was formally logged,
But the processing speed was bogged.
The Cushion absorbs
All the furious barbs,
While the actual progress is clogged.

You swing with the might of a bear,
But the Cushion just swallows the air.
Your anger is real,
But you cannot appeal,
When the structure was built to not care.

The cushion of recourse was flat
The server was sitting on that
The error was hard
The system was scarred
The manual squashed like a hat

We fell on the procedural floor
And waited behind a locked door
The cushion was gone
The error lived on
The human could take it no more

The recourse provided no aid
The database started to fade
We printed the log
And stepped in the fog
The terrible choice had been made

A cushion of zeroes and air
Is hiding under the stair
We sit in the dark
Like a digital spark
With absolutely no kind of care

The recourse was totally null
The system was boring and dull
The human complained
The error remained
The archive is perfectly full