Thy Code, Thy Choice

                   #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