I dot the I’s and cross the Ts,

I complete the form with troubling ease.

Feeling smug I go to submit,

And I am told that I have missed one crucial bit.

 

I scroll back up, I scroll back down,

Through dropdown boxes of beige and brown.

Page six of twelve, no, now it’s thirteen,

There was never a box marked “In-Between”.

 

I tick a square, it turns to red,

“The answer is invalid,” it annoyingly said.

I type it again, with caution and care,

It freezes, and blinks, going precisely nowhere.

 

I phone the helpline, “Your calls in queue,

Estimated time: an hour or two.”

A cheerful voice says, “Do try again!”

Then cuts me off, it is a hell of a strain.

 

I print the form but it’s fifteen pages!

The ink runs out, my fury rages.

I sign in blue, they wanted black.

I tear it up; there is no turning back.

 

I make some tea, accept I have lost,

The form still blank, so much time it has cost

As in this world of nonsense so neat,

No form is ever that easy to complete.