In the quiet haze of a smoky night,
A loner stoner, hidden from sight.
Under the moon, in solitude's throne,
He danced with shadows, utterly alone.

His thoughts spun wild, a dizzying maze,
Lost in the green, in cannabis glaze.
But lo, a stir, a pulse that grew,
A comical twist in his hazy view.

For nature’s call, unbidden, arose,
A solitary monument, as tension grows.
He laughed aloud at the absurd display,
A secret joke to cap the day.

The world could judge, but what did he care?
The stars were his audience, the cool night air.
In his peculiar state, there was no shame,
Just a fleeting moment, without a name.

So here's to the nights both strange and free,
To loner stoners and their odd company.
In the end, it’s the humor that keeps us sane,
The loner, stoner, with a boner.