Alone it stood, there in the night,
against the hazy fog, a blur.
Standing tall, with all it’s might.
Alone I stood, unable to stir.
A blank in the night, against the fog.
Speaking haphazardly, a drunken slur.
Unwilling to notice, through all the grog,
that the man before me, a fraud.
My eyes polluted by the city’s smog.
Stand there I did, completely awed.
For the man before me wasn’t just polite,
and all I could do is cry and applaud.
It wasn’t until the next days light,
that I’d found out about his plastic plight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem