To Whom It May Concern, I wrote a set of lines
To make up for mine, Leisure, who blesses me with signs
Heart understands thine will; He who loves with passionate soul
For it is She who moves me, snares with her Control
Look at her perfection; she traps me with her eye
Appears in all directions, and makes me sit and lie
Spirit understand this still; He who cries out for her trust
For it is She who soothes me, tames me with her lust
Alas I am cursed with fate, you probably can tell
That I walk this Earth with Leisure, in a never ending hell
Work understands this hexing; He who continues to keep me sane
For it is She who rots me, silences me in vain
To end off your concern, I will inscribe one last plea
To make up for mine, Leisure, who expresses sweet sanctity
Boredom understands the vexing; He who laughs at all my fear
For it is She who tells me, Leisure is always here
-The Admin, The Poet Code
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