Little Boy

There is this one little boy

Sitting in a carriage with his eyes popping

Left and right he sees

Looking at everything which catches

His attention, his big eyes

His mind never stops wondering

Imagination is his strength

This quite ride, this long ride is the perfect time

For him to create a narrative about the world he sees

So tell me little boy

How do you narrate this reality we live in

Would you describe it as a beautiful and bright world

As bright as your popping brown eyes

Or would you rather describe it as a tainted world?

—DNP