No DNS to fail my test,
No packets lost from east to west.
A noble host, forever near–
My silent friend: 127.0.0.1, right here.
No firewall blocks, no routing mess,
No flaky coffee shop Wi-Fi stress.
While others roam the net, adrift,
I ping myself – connection swift.
No lag, no jitter, no port is closed,
My traffic loops – so self-composed.
From dev to test, from bash to curl,
You keep it tight in this looped world.
When Docker dreams and servers spawn,
You’re always there, dusk until dawn.
A playground vast on just one node–
A universe within my code.
I ssh to localhost – why not?
It's me I trust, and me I've got.
A sandbox where I break and build,
And never get the network billed.
Your loopback hugs my TCP,
Your UDP runs wild and free.
You're not out there – you're in my core.
A nerd's retreat. A dev's folklore.
So raise a glass (of sudo rights),
To localhost on sleepless nights.
While uptime grows and cron jobs spin–
You're always home, and always in.