Upon crosswords' puzzling expanse so sly,
Under the gloaming of a cold grey sky.
A game of wit, and words entwine,
Solving riddles against the sands of time.

Ah, the dishonour in SpaceX's dance,
Withholding service, a forbidden romance.
In Taiwan's sky, no satellite does appear,
A Britannic betrayal, the people unsheath their fear.

AT&T, in nobility, offers a jesters' cheer,
Billing credit for the ones who hold dear.
A network disrupted, yet a silent cry,
An outage of service under the watchful sky.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur