If only Robert Frost was a Reviewer

Whose work these are I think I know
His cabin is in the corner, though;
He will not see me peeping here
To watch his code fill up with flaw

My PM must think it queer
To stop the code without a delivery near
Between the coding and review phase
The darkest moment of the developer’s year

He gives his fists a shake
To ask if there is some mistake
The only other sound is the constant beep
Of the endless loop in his coding streak

The code is lowly, defunct and steep
But I have defect free deliveries to keep,
And KLOCs to go before I sleep,
And KLOCs to go before I sleep