In lofty heights where coding sparks delight,
An engineer, his mind a swirling mist,
With THC's embrace, he takes to flight,
To craft a program that won’t be dismissed.
His fingers dance like leaves in gentle breeze,
Each line of code transcends the bounds of art,
"Oh what is this? A bug?" he moans, "Oh please!"
That semicolon, oh thief of my sweet heart!
While sipping snacks, he dreams, and snacks some more,
“Array of donuts? Yes, I must compile!”
The printer jams, a chaos to explore,
He swears it’s just his code, and not denial.
But from this haze, he can’t escape his fate,
He sends his project in—oh, it's too late!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
