Life is all documentation,
Each movement a form to fill,
A D1 or a CN22 or otherwise,
Every action requiring permission,
Of some faceless bureaucratic ghoul,
Simplicity was too inefficient,
Our bindings were a touch too loose,
So we were bestowed this obstacle course,
I can see my objective clearly,
But an olympic run away,
Strewn with red razor wire,
Burning hoops and dotted lines,
For each footfall a box to tick,
But not that one,
Wrong form after all,
Time to stumble.
WorldofHarley 