dogpoet

The yellow circle goes chomp, chomp, chomp,
The sound of a broken game;
Clomp, clomp, clomp
The sound of the mad boy who lost his money on it
STOMP STOMP.
The whack-a-mole machine:

When you
Divide the mile you need to walk
By the number of times you’ll take breath
And move forward that one step
You’ll get a lot
A daunting number that is not
Encouraging you to walk.
But when you divide your mile by a lot

Coding
Is
A language
An art
Coding is a form of art
A building
Where I make things and take them apart
Solving problems
(Very Often)
I’ll be solving problems in my script
It’s like a play

Is
Stomping rocking rolling brightly colored feathers all together one for all through flight and fall all these people who you don't really know and your friends

You scream from the pain
It may drive you insane
But you’ll soon know much worse 
Because the cotton never works
So you’ll beg and you’ll plead
But they’ll pay you no head
You did rub in the cream

If you don't know how I feel
You should
By the angry spark in my eye.

If you don't know how I feel
You flatter me that I am more pulled together than I know myslef to be