Upon a chair, the coder sat and dreamed,
With THC, his mind began to race,
Debugging loops, he thought, were quite esteemed,
Yet visions of unicorns danced in place.
“Why's this line red? It should be smooth as silk!”
He pondered, sipping tea, and munching milk,
But every time he typed, the letters swirled,
And soon there were more errors than he twirled.
He tried to fix the code with song and dance,
The screen, however, had begun to laugh,
“Just one more sprint!” he cried—he took his chance,
While algorithm merry made him draft.
Yet when dawn broke, with bleary eye and sigh,
He learned that best laid plans oft fail—oh my!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
