Umbra
The umbra of beaurocracy,
runs deeper into the soul,
than one my expect.
The endless reschedulings,
the passive agressive,
advice,
that makes my brain bleed,
of tiredness.
I did not come to Play with expectations,
or tiptoe around rulings,
arbitered by,
someone I could not,
respect less.
Little else hurts me more,
than having something I love,
ruined by the very force,
meant to keep it running.
What is power but the knowledge of the ability to destroy.