Autor: Alexander Piehl

Now that I’ve lived to see this day,
These are the things I must but say.

Die a bachelor, if your options’re few,
Never ever love a programmer, they’ll make a program out of you.

Don’t laugh it away, mine has been an object lesson,
They find syntax errors, even in a romantic expression.

Alas! they search logic in love, where there is none,
Yo heart may skip a beat and they just hit return.

You are in for trouble if you persist,
You’ll just be a pointer in a long linked list.

They would never oblige you even with a smile,
And if smile come to their lips, they consign it to a file.

They have little regard for your amorous approaches,
Plight will be yours, infinite loops & blunderous goaches.

You are bitten by different bugs, though love it may appear,
Just when you think you’re going steady, you’ll get run time error.

And if your beloved may be a programmer in COBOL,
May God be with you for they are the worst of them all.

Sticklers for standards, you’ll have a rough time,
You’ll die of keeping tabs, in your youth prime.

Beauty and brain together, which was never meant to be,
They have them both and are for sure deadly.

And yet there are Heroes who’s love has made history,
But why their fates didn’t hang is still a mystery.

So follow my advice if in me you have any trust,
Wait for the day when the beauty becomes an analyst.