#include<poetry.h>
The bugs of thy code, hidden like a virus
Steals not your data, dates thy compiler
The mem of thy soul, stressed and archaic
Already knows a thou, c, perl, hebraic
The code of thy soul, enough long to rule the world
Willn’t compile if thy seed is a virus
Not even will, case done with the python
’Tis, ’tis a problem, the poison of a viper
Living through thy blood, bleeding through thy fingers
Spreads on a zip and it lingers, and it lingers
Don’t know what you want, or what thy code’ll be
If ruby, java, just a virus or php
But remember that the evil has no single, single patience
You should run, not compile, through the code, through those piles
And don’t forget all these words, words of the matrix
Just tell: red or blue? Fast, faster, with no waiting