In neon dreams where logic takes a flight,
An engineer sits lost in puffs of bliss,
With THC to guide his code tonight,
He writes a program that he cannot miss.
His fingers dance upon the keyboard bright,
While algorithms swirl like clouds of haze,
A bug appears; he squints, unsure of sight,
“A feature? Or a glitch?”—he’s in a daze.
The semicolons laugh, the brackets tease,
He comments lines that make no sense at all,
“Why not use llamas? They code with such ease!”
A frosty snack now beckons from the wall.
Yet as he crashes into snoozy slumber,
His code compiles—he wakes in shocked wonder.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
