There is a poet among us,
Who goes under many a name.
Many aliases his speciality,
Poetry to him is all game.
Pseudonyms and nom de plumes,
Keep coming out of his mind.
He lurks in poetry shadows,
Schizophrenia is so unkind.
Names anonymous and incognito,
He tries to hide behind.
And when he breaks cover,
A spammer most maligned.
He tries to change his style,
In how he tries to write.
But there are constant echoes,
Revealed in black and white.
A fairy tale I do recall,
Written by the Brothers Grimm.
A name so apt for him,
The unloved Rumplestiltskin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem Shaun...deliciously sardonic and Rumplestiltskin is so apt and I KNOW who you are referring to. You know what it's far easy to just be oneself...then again some people out there obviously suffer from multiple personality disorder so perhaps they are unable to stop themselves. However, identity theft is still a crime; far more serious than merely using a pseudonym if you get my drift.