Drawer Vampire

Tomar Ben-Shlomo © 

4/6/2024 - 9/7/2024

Throughout the day, he surfs across the keyboard, his fate,

Only by virtue of his cooperative software, systems operate!

As a pioneer responder, a farmer with a hoe in coder precision,

He codes, merges branches, compiles, workflows, making intricate decisions!

As the forefront head, a watchtower serving with a faithful glance,

While defining new rules, within the firewall, layers of defense!

Experiencing firsthand, code review insights, among coworkers,

Ensuring ahead his cooperation will comply with global standards!

He scripts automation tests, systematically, in a row, line by line,

For each unit test separately, as well as integration tests intertwine.

Exterminating sometimes, unwanted infiltrating, bugs in the field,

Releasing thoroughly tested hotfixes, to the bank, as the system's shield.

Throughout the night, he is a sleepy hero, tapping on a keyboard,

Remaining awake, as sleep eludes him, his mind wanders aboard.

Breaking instantly words into syllables, with swift blows unseen,

Breaking lines, with somersaults kicks, he is sharp and keen,

In a keystroke, exploding, rebuilding verses, a new creative scene!

All night long, staying awake, at a new poetic adventurer, thrilled!

Till the last drop of ink, with a pen sucks blue blood, on parchment,

Writing currently, putting away the poem in the dark department.

Who would suspect him, that he is actually also a drawer vampire,

A double agent, as keyboard's clandestine service inspired by desire.

Constantly afraid to ignite, burned if exposed, to the spotlight on set,

Therefore, he sleeps hiding in the coffin, in a cold drawer, in the closet!

This is how, years for decades, he has been writing, solely for himself,

Weaving rhymes as stringing beads, his life dusting poems on the shelf.

He always had a neat job as his cover story, living in disguise initially.

All that he wrote, put away, buried in a drawer grave, and is still confidential!

What is really blocking his soul? What is precisely stopping him?

It's not suitable for the poem to be alone like that, nor honorable to him!

Imprisoned in a drawer, in the dark, he is lying alone, by his eyes only!

After all, something from inside him, seeking an insight out of necessity!

Even if he is just an individual, one person, with a split personality,

After all, there is no point in keeping it like that, with perpetuated secrecy!

His comfort zone, in a quiet room, on a black night, hidden from sight.

Only radically, he decided to change, to cope with existence, and fight!

When only for himself, he defined in his poems, expressing feelings,

Yet not genuinely touching or changing meaningfully other's feelings!

Indeed, when no one else had ever tasted his art, it was tasteless!

It is time to materialize, his dream that has been, dormant and timeless,

Instead of living, a double life, whole of constant, unfulfillment flavors,

He preferred revealing his poetic heart and getting closer to a complete form!