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The Software
Once upon a deadline dreary, while I keyframed, weak and weary,
Motions of some quaint and curious characters of pop culture lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a sad "ping!"
As a warning of a bad thing - bad thing that was soon in store.
"'Tis some minor glitch," I muttered, "only this and nothing more."
Quoth the software, "Dumping core."
Through the night I kept on tweaking, points and weights until repeating
Each and every operation on the envelope I swore
Would take a lifetime, for you see, never had the likes of me,
Toiled away so expertly, with skill I hadn't felt before
And when I tried to save perfection, which I hadn't saved before,
Quoth the software, "Dumping core."
My conceit it was evolving to frustration at not solving
This dilemma my perfection seemed unable to explore.
Surely I would be triumphant o'er this problem running rampant;
I could not envision failure knocking at this artist's door.
Perhaps I was just imag'ning this response my software bore;
Surely mine would not dump core.
As I sat there gently cursing, in my tired mind rehearsing
How to spill this machine's lifeblood out upon the floor,
While I plotted nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping - rapping at my Avid door.
"'Tis the cleaning staff," I muttered, "tapping at my Avid door -
Only this and nothing more."
"Enter," muttered I with sadness, "cleanse the Avid of this madness,
This infernal software crashing is the fate I most abhor,
You, with cleaning products dumping, and that Windex bottle pumping,
Might be able to wash clean the awful mem'ry of this core."
But as I rose from my position, turned and opened wide the door,
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into the hallway peering, long I stood there, ranting, reeling,
Calling for those cleaning products in the Avid to outpour,
But there was noone to assist me, and as darkness did resist me
I gathered strength, spoke to myself: "I must this mystery explore
Surely now my scene will save like so many times before."
Quoth the software, "Dumping core."
As I shouted incantations brought about by my frustrations
At the loss of wonders to some viewers on a distant shore
I implored the software, "Why, ev'ry single time I try
Simple operations I don't get results I got before?
And will I ever get to see the world that waits outside my door?"
Quoth the software, "Nevermore."
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