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Nevermore

Once upon a midnight dreary,
Fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high
And wasted paper on the floor,
Looking for the warmth of bedsheets,
Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line,
I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand,
I then invoked the SAVE command,
But got instead a reprimand:
It read, "Abort, Retry, Ignore."
Still I sat there doing spreadsheets
    Wasted paper on the floorWasted paper on the floor
 

Was this some occult illusion?
Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices Solomon himself
Had never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed my options.
These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly, I must now adopt one:
Choose Abort, Retry, Ignore.


System Manuals piled high
System Manuals piled high
 

With my fingers pale and trembling,
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending,
Hoping all will be restored,
Praying for some guarantee
Finally I pressed a key --
But on the screen what did I see?
Again: "Abort, Retry, Ignore."


Frantic to 'save my work'   Please Don't Do This!

PANIC takes over!

 

I tried to catch the chips off-guard --
I pressed again, but twice as hard.
Luck was just not in the cards.
I saw what I had seen before.
Now I typed in desperation
Trying random combinations;
Still there came the incantation:
Choose: Abort, Retry, Ignore.


Now I typed in desperation - trying random combinations!
 

There I sat, distraught, exhausted,
by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away
And paced across the office floor.
And then I saw an awful sight:
A bold and blinding flash of light --
A lightning bolt had cut the night
And shook me to my very core.
I saw the screen collapse and die;
"Oh no -- my database, I cried."
I thought I heard a voice reply,
"You'll see your data Nevermore..."


A lightning bolt had cut the night...
 

To this day I do not know
The place to which lost data goes.
I bet it goes to Heaven
Where the angels have it stored,
But as for productivity, well --
I fear that it goes straight to Hell,
And that's the tale I have to tell.


The place to which lost data goes...   ...where the angels have it stored.
Your Choice: Abort, Retry, Ignore.

 
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