Ollie Young, Kings High School

O Plastic Bag! O transporter of many canned fruits
That carried th’ soon to be eaten home

O Thou! whatever colour suit thee­
Bricht Yellow, White, Black, or Gree-n,
Wha in yon stomach freish an' shiny,
Clos 1 d under handles,
Stretched tae yer stoaps,
As yer manhandled,
Intae th’ boot O’ a motor

Hear me young plastic poke, dae nae rip,
Ye’v barely completed yit hauf th’ trip,
Bit rip ye dae, spilling th’ bean dip,
A’ ower th’ carpet,
Ruining th’ flavour O’ th’ bacon strips,
Frying th’ leccie circuit

A’ this stramash haes caused a puncture in oor side,
Noo yer harming uise is completely unf ustified,
Sae yer simply thrown onto th’ curbside,
Floating in th’ gutter,
Cooncil juice pouring ben lik’a flood tide,
Sucked intae th’ stank lik’ molten butter

Storm drains pull ‘n’tug yer punctured demeanour,
Attempting tae mak’ th’ wynd generally cleaner,
Wee does it ken, none o’tis attempts ur making th’ sidewalk mare green,
Swirling thro’ th’ pipes, oot tae th’ sea,
Ye burst fae th’ pipe feeling sae muckle meaner,
Duin tae commit murder tae a heich gree

Immitating a pak ‘n’ save jellyfish,
Granting mony hungert sea turtles wish,
Brassic cratur, thinking tis ‘meal’ haes bin practically handed tae it oan a dish,
Howfur foolish it is,
Expecting ‘NZ’ s Lowest Food Prices’ wull gie it a free fish,
Swooping in fur th’ ‘kill’ wil na prior analysis

This is wur th’ gutters hae leid ye
Bit is this truly yer destiny?

Ah think nae, strangling lairge fishies
This insae whit ye wur intended tae dae
Polluting th’ stoatin’ blue sea
The end th’ bides that dae nae belong tae ye

Please och plastic poke, chaynge yer ways
Dinnae mak’ th’ innocent ones pay
Yer oncom tae gang gaun astray
Faeth’ path ye should’ve taken
Caw aroond noo ‘n’ ye'll be okay