She thanks someone she does not know
I write with haste before she goes
Away so far away from here
Mia my friend held close and dear
Phantom like him whose face unseen
Questioned by her that's never seen
The man she floored with looks alone
Through cyber space were both at home
Surely her wish would be to see
This faceless poet, Phantom that's me
Who doesn't sing, but wrote this one
This one more write, poem unsung
What can I say to ease her mind
That what we wrote is what she'd find
In me stranger who wrote sincerely
For her my best I wish her dearly
Sometimes a face can tell a story
Of fame, fortune, and probably glory
But that's not us dear friend and poet
Just simple me who more than knows it
Maybe someday you'll grace my presence
Who knows the time this man more peasant
Will get to stroke your long dark hair
With these few words I'd say I'd dare
