A Sea of Green
By Ryan Hill

The cold, dark night
Seems devoid of light.
An APT is very soon due.
And as much as I try
I just want to cry
Because I can’t get that all-green hue.

I work and I stress,
Write a jumbled-up mess,
Hoping that the solution will come.
But whatever I do,
I haven’t a clue
How to get out of this mental slum.

But then: could it be?
Am I finally free?
Can I finish and go to bed?
Because now I spy
With my comp sci eye,
A sea of green with no red.

Now the joy surges through me
From the sight that I now see,
The night’s giving way to dawn.
But then I see, and dread.
One test case is still red.
‘FML,’ I think with a yawn.