Sat, 30 Dec 2023
'Twas the night before Freedom, in the cybernetic gleam,
No processor churned, no hard drive did scream.
Monitors slumbered, screens cold and dark,
Keyboards lay silent, no programmer's spark.
The hackers were nestled, all snug in their beds,
While visions of freedom danced in their heads;
And I in my coding cap, and my trusty Emacs,
Had just settled down to code some new hacks.
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
To the server room I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and threw back the sash.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Richard Stallman, standing boldly near!
His eyes twinkled brightly, his grin broad and wide,
He wore a t-shirt, with a gnu by his side.
A sack full of licenses, his shoulders did bear,
No chains could confine him, no shackles ensnare.
With a flick of his wrist, he powered the machines,
And the room was filled with whirs and gleams.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Leaving licenses of GPL behind with a smirk.
Licenses of freedom, like snowflakes they flew,
Landing on computers, and code tried and true.
He filled every terminal with a message so bold,
"Copyleft and share, let freedom unfold!"
He championed the users, the makers, the brave,
For freedom of code, a free world to save.
His work being finished, he turned with a wink,
And raised a glass full of rootbeer, his spirit to drink.
Then springing to keyboard, he typed with a flair,
And vanished like magic, into the air.
But I heard him exclaim, as he disappeared from sight,
"Happy hacking to all, and to all a good night!"
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