The Kid Poem by Abhishek Bhovar

A little boy woke up and said to himself:
"Today I'll be happy, today I'll have fun! "
So he rolled off his bed and round and round he spun!

He started feeling dizzy, and lay down for a while,
As he watched the world spinning, he started to smile.
He wondered to himself, as the room orbited around him:
"Is this happening outside too, or is it just in? "

So he leaped outside with the biggest of leaps!
The ground shook badly, see he was strong heaps!

He looked at the sky and waved at his friends:
The tufts of clouds, the branches, the leaves,
And some friendly orange butterflies who looked like they'd be ‘Steves'

The wind tried to stop him - he pushed back with all his might!
You see he thought the wind was attacking him - he wasn't very bright!

"Chirp" came a sound from the grass patch nearby.
The neighbourhood pigeons had come to say "Hi."
He ran up to greet them but they started to fly,
The boy wasn't fussed, he just waved and said "Bye."

By now it was sunny, and clear, and hot.
He was starting to feel a little hungry - actually quite a lot!

He ran home, ate some cookies and lay down on the ground.
While his eyes were shut tight, the clock's arms rapidly moved around…

Then he opened his eyes; it took quite a while,
You see before it was easier when he did it with a smile.

But now he's become a bright and mature grown-up.
And knows lots of important grown-up sort-of-stuff:
He knows clouds are clouds and leaves are leaves,
He's too smart to think they can wave - that's just make believe!

But despite his knowledge, his wisdom and age,
Despite all he's learned in his life till this stage,
Despite it all he still can't explain,
Why his life is so boring, so empty, so plain.
Why he doesn't feel happy, or excited at all,
Why he relies on a message, an email, a call,
For something to distract him from the loneliness in his heart,
If he ignores it, avoids it, maybe it won't tear him apart.

Maybe someday he'll actually know - he hasn't gotten smarter, not really, not much.
He might be bigger and hairier but his mind's out of touch
Of the thing we call childhood which he left behind gladly,
Now he misses it, and yearns for it, and wishes it back badly.

He keeps on forgetting, as most grown-ups do,
That to be little he doesn't have to be little too.
Being little is fun because things don't have to make sense.
If you experience life like it's new, it won't feel so intense.

So talk to the grass, the bugs and the bees,
The doorknobs, the candles, the lizards, the trees.
Ask them if they like candy, or cabbage, or goaties,
Or dolls, or marbles, or little paper boaties.

Look up at the sky at the birds, clouds and planes,
Realise they're your friends and you won't feel so lonely again.
You all live in this house we call ‘world', ‘blue-blob' or ‘Catoozzled'
Who cares if you don't know stuff, who cares if you're often bamboozled!

You still fit in together and complete the scene,
You're wanted and needed - so much do you mean.
Because without your eyes open wide and your imagination open wider,
Who's going to appreciate the rain, the wind and the glider.
Who else will breathe life into all that we see around us?
Who else will smile in wonderment and forget to whine and fuss?

So when you lie down close your eyes and take a quick nap,
Keep your childhood lamp on with a quick forehead zap.
Always wash behind your ears and use both hands to clap,
And remember this clearly, remember this little chap:

You're loved and respected forever, don't you fear,
You're wanted and needed by all of us here!