Poem: Misjudgment

Misjudgement

That one knows nothing
of what is to be done,
only acts on the orders
of those who have no right
to present their demands.
It is all backwards,
is all confusion
and missteps.
The secrets
were in hand.
There was danger,
a chance of revelations.
It was all wrong, though.
Nothing should be that way.
It was precisely what
it must not be.
Will it be noted
or changed? I have little
hope of that any longer.
The shape of things
is already wrought.

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