Commander of Ghost Protocol

She wakes at six, a soldier’s pride, Yet dodging texts like enemy fire with stride. Discipline sharp, routine on point, But replying? Nah, won’t even anoint. Her thumb trained in stealth, like a commando ghost, Evading my message like it’s classified post. No salute, no signal, just tactical ignore, She’s on a mission to reply nevermore. So here’s to the General of Ghosts, all hail, Dodging conversations like incoming hail. A warrior in silence, bold and elite, Too tough for texts, but quick on her feet