The design

Where do I build my server sire
Asked the technician to the architect.
The architect replied sheepishly, where would you
Where does the instruction say
The technician pondered a bit
Hesitantly replied, this one is not listed anywhere
The architect was calm and gently smiled
Bring forth your demand, I shall guide
As he sat in his high chair, king like.
This has no meaning, there is no sense
Who qualified this, this is not what I had prescribed
The architect stomping his foot in rage exclaimed.
Who was the one that mutilated my design
Who dared massacre it.
The sales person gently winked
It was I, for I see no need for your generous provisions
I see that we should size it down
At this the architect and technician stared
Into the cold dark eyes of the head of sales
As a smile emerged from the architect and technician
The managers felt an oncoming rage
The room was torn asunder, the walls cracked
The chair were scattered and tables upturned
The architect and technician walked out
In bloody foot steps
As the corpses of the sales painted the floor red