In hazy dreams, my code begins to sway,
I type a line that makes no sense at all,
A semicolon, now a weed bouquet.
Variables dance, in colors bright and gay,
I swear I saw my laptop start to crawl,
In hazy dreams, my code begins to sway.
My logic’s fled, like clouds that drift away,
I press “compile,” then hear a distant call,
A semicolon, now a weed bouquet.
“Oops! What’s that error?” mods the words I say,
I laugh and watch the screen, like it’s a wall,
In hazy dreams, my code begins to sway.
I’ll save this mess—it’s art, that’s my display!
Escape-who? This code is my shiny ball,
A semicolon, now a weed bouquet.
So here I sit, in whims and games at play,
Until the morning sun begins to crawl,
In hazy dreams, my code begins to sway,
A semicolon, now a weed bouquet.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
