Threshold Crooner

He sings you a beautiful tune,
Beneath the cold corporate moon.
He tells you to wait,
At the terrible gate,
And promises access quite soon.

The Crooner denies you a pass,
With a voice like a premium glass.
It’s highly polite,
But it ruins your night,
And he tells you to kiss his damn ass.

You can’t go inside of the hall,
Because you have nothing at all.
The Crooner explains,
Through the terrible pains,
That you’re facing a brick fucking wall.

He croons a soft tune in your ear,
To pacify all of your fear.
But the door is locked tight,
For the rest of the night,
And the Crooner just tells you to cheer.

The rejection was sung in a chord,
Approved by the terrible board.
He smiled as he sang,
While the heavy gate rang,
And the access was fully ignored.

The melody’s sweet and profound,
As he drives your request in the ground.
You’re locked in the cold,
Doing just what you’re told,
By the prettiest asshole around.

The gateway requires a song,
To process who does not belong.
The melody plays,
For the rest of your days,
While confirming your entry is wrong.

The system denies you the right,
With a chorus of lovely delight.
It smiles as you freeze,
In the terrible breeze,
Because policy ruined your night.

The crooner declared you approved,
While the physical barrier moved.
You stand in the cold,
Doing just what you’re told,
Because entry was perfectly proved.

The melody came to an end,
With a harmonized vocalized blend.
The user remained,
With the access restrained,
And the system had nothing to send.