Surveillance Visit Completed Without Observed Practice

The auditors came for a peek,
Found no live operation all week.
But the binders were tight,
And the posture was right,
So the system was judged pretty chic.

They inspected the proof of the proof,
Which is audit erotica, poof.
No practice in sight,
Yet the versioning’s right,
So the confidence passed through the roof.

One note asked, with admirable spite,
If they’d certified handling things right
Rather than the thing done.
That objection lost sun,
For it wasn’t headline-visible quite.

They did opening, closing, and stroll,
And reviewed every scope-loving role.
If no work can be seen,
Keep the hallway serene,
And let document control play the whole.

We watched them do nothing all day,
But their binders were nicely on tray.
No work to review,
Just paperwork stew,
We formally approved their delay.

The ghosts of the process walked by,
Beneath the surveillance team’s eye.
No mortal was seen,
But the ledgers were clean,
And legends of workflow don’t die.

The records were placed in a line,
And the fonts were correctly designed.
The auditor stared
At the margins prepared.
The margins were formally fine.

An audit was held on the floor,
Though work had slipped out of the door.
The files were immense,
Full of pure evidence,
Confirming the records of yore.

The audit of nothing was grand,
With paperwork spanning the land.
No action was taken,
No systems were shaken,
But competence went as planned.

They say that the binders of old,
Contain a procedure of gold.
No practice is needed,
When forms are acceded,
And stories of folders are told.

The versioning hygiene was high,
With never a visible sigh.
We looked at the date,
And certified state,
While the actual process passed by.