White face.
Black face.
Only showing half of face.
Thoughts are put to waste.
Not many up to pace.
As I'm dealt the ace.
Striking these foes with a boldface.
Only leaving disgrace.
Waiting for ones embrace.
Then never to erase.
This beautiful cyberspace.
That's filling my database.
Now drifting in airspace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem