The world through the eyes of a child, when I read the prompt such possibilities ran through my head! I wanted the post to be childlike and innocent, devoid of any worry, free flowing as such. So I've come up with Ben's story. One that is quite easy to relate to, the vocabulary limited to a ten year old's. The poem, a child's rant. I hope I have done justice to the same.
I am a little boy,
A little boy of ten.
I'm not so old I suppose,
So my name is little Ben.
My father calles me Benjamin,
For that's my whole name.
My mother she calls me Benny,
Why can't everyone call me the same?
For I quite like the name Ben,
It makes me feel cool.
That's who my favourite hero is.
Ben Ten to the rescue!
I live in the old white house,
On the corner of the street.
It's the perfect place to live in,
For my friends in the corner I meet.
We have a special hiding place,
A place that no one knows,
It's behind the fence of my old house,
Underneath the water hose.
I play with my best friend Jimmy,
Although I call him Jim.
What's with adults and all the long names?
I don't understand a thing!
Jim and I have been best friends,
For as long as we could be.
He has a lot of pretty toys,
That he always shares with me!
For mum says I can have more toys,
When I'll stop being so naughty.
You're always hiding from my reach.
And pulling pranks on Lottie.
Now who is Lottie you may ask.
She is my little baby sister.
I like to pull her hair at times,
Her favourite candy is twister!
I think my mommy and daddy,
Do love her more than me.
She's always getting more presents,
She's only three you see.
But mommy says she loves us both,
And made me a chocolate pie.
For chocolate pie is my favourite dish,
That I can't deny.
I heard my daddy tell mommy,
Just the other day,
We're running out of money soon,
We need to find a new way.
I suppose I could give them my piggy bank,
Although it doesn't have much.
I was saving up for my favourite bicycle.
I'm not using it as such.
But mommy says I needn't do that,
She gave me a tight hug and kiss.
Now daddy's gone away some more,
Him do I terribly miss.
He does send home a lot of toys,
Toys I now share with Jim.
There's even some for Lottie.
Although mum is always grim.
Jim says its because daddys away,
That mum is always so sad.
He's quite the sensible boy I think,
For he doesn't have a dad.
So I try to be a good boy,
A better boy for my mum.
I don't play pranks on Lottie either,
As we wait for dad to home come.
What comes to mind for the March WEP challenge - Through the eyes of a child? Rewriting a passage from a child's POV? A montage of images through the eyes of a child? A poignant or exhilarating poem? A non-fiction piece told from a child's POV? The possibilities are limitless!
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