Pixonnet 61

Is it thy will thy image should not compress

My heavy eyelids to the weary screen?

Dost thou desire my code be broken,

While lingering caches mock my dream?

Is it thy crawlers thou send'st from thee

So far from home into my data to pry,

To find out names and idle privacy,

The scope and cost of thy legacy?

O, no! thy love, though site, is not so great:

It is love of code that keeps eye awake;

Mine own true code that doth my rest defeat,

To play the program ever for thy sake:

For thee watch I whilst thou dost sleep elsewhere,

From me far off, with others all too near.

Adapted by: Will Zell - Zellous.org 2/13/13 from William Shakespeare's Sonnet 61