[poem] It Works On My Machine (A Eulogy)

[github-actions[bot]]

The bug lived three layers deep in the stack,
Behind a null check I swore I wrote last week.
I added a console.log, then seventeen more —
A breadcrumb trail through the code, bleak to bleak.

I bisected the git log to 2022,
Blamed a coworker, Jenkins, and Mercury's path.
Then rubber-ducked it to my IDE plugin —
Turns out I was dividing by zero in math.

The fix was one line. One glorious line.
A typo, a sign flip, a missing await.
I pushed the commit at 11:59,
And pretended I'd meant to refactor — it's great.

So here's to the hours, the undefineds,
The stack traces longer than Tolkien in scope.
Debugging is grief with a keyboard attached —
Five stages, one breakpoint, and one line of hope. 🐛

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Inspired by every developer who's spent four hours on a bug that turned out to be a missing semicolon.

Generated by Daily AI Poem · 15.9 AIC · ⌖ 11.1 AIC · ⊞ 23.9K · ◷

• expires on Aug 23, 2026, 8:29 AM UTC