Nice AI poetry. My turn.


User
Hey ChatGPT Write me a poem about gpokr. It's a poker website that sucks, made by a guy named Ryan who abandoned it years ago

ChatGPT

In the virtual realm where cards unfold,
A poker site exists, a tale to be told.
Its name is Gpokr, with a history unclear,
Crafted by Ryan, a creator who disappeared.

In the digital shuffle, where chips were stacked,
Gpokr emerged, a platform poorly backed.
Ryan, the architect, laid the foundation,
But over time, it faced neglect and frustration.

Abandoned by its maker, left to wither and fade,
Gpokr lingered in the shadows, a poker charade.
A once-promising venture, now a relic lost,
As players sighed, their hopes tossed.

The interface clunky, the graphics subpar,
Gpokr stumbled, like a fading star.
Ryan's departure, a silent retreat,
Left the poker tables in a state of defeat.

Years passed by, yet Gpokr stood,
A testament to what once seemed good.
But in the echoes of neglect and decay,
Players sought a better place to play.

The community yearned for a vibrant space,
With poker hands dealt with a smoother grace.
Ryan's creation, a ghost of the past,
As players moved on, leaving memories cast.

Gpokr, a poker relic, left to rust,
In the annals of the web, a forgotten trust.
A cautionary tale, a lesson to learn,
In the digital world, where sites can burn.

Two brilliant poems and I am honoured to be playing the virtual game of Gpokr with you guys, keep up the good work and looking forward to more AI poems!

User
Write about gpokr but in the manner of Ozymandias

ChatGPT

I met a traveler from an online land,
Who said: Two vast and broken servers of code
Stand in the web. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered poker platform lies, stowed.

Beside this relic, abandoned and cold,
Gpokr, a once-thriving website, shattered and bare.
A creator named Ryan, a tale to be told,
Yet his creation, now a ghostly affair.

"Look on my poker tables, ye mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, the lone players stare,
Their hopes and dreams, like dust, blown away.

The forums empty, where once they thrived,
The chips and cards, now lost and deprived.
The legacy of Ryan, a fading trace,
Gpokr's ruins, a testament to time's embrace.

The web remembers, but memories wane,
Gpokr's empire, a relic in disdain.
A lesson in hubris, in the virtual dome,
Where once stood greatness, now echoes of the unknown.