The Boy Who Peeped

By Mansi Shanbag

There once lived a boy in a faraway land,

I shall tell you his story in rhymes.

It’s a bit long and a bit bleak, so bear with me,

But it isn't like every other story since the beginning of time.

The boy was a curious one,

Liked to peep in places that weren’t his.

He’d look and peek and question,

Sated curiosity was his only bliss.

On one of those days seeped in inquisitiveness,

He chanced upon a deep, fine ditch.

Naturally, his fingers tingled and his eyes hungered

For a look within to ease his itch.

To the doorman, for there was one, he asked,

“Can I peek just a little bit?”

The doorman frowned until his eyes disappeared,

He really didn’t look like he was up for it.

“No,” he said, his voice all gruff,

“You cannot. Leave this place right away!”

The words were harsh and the tone not so kind,

But now the boy’s mind was in disarray.

For he truly wished to see for once

What this deep ditch held.

To gaze upon its many secrets

He felt like he was compelled.

He tried once more, with gusto renewed,

“Please, oh please, just one peek,

I promise I want nothing more than to look just once

Into this ditch of which I speak!”

The doorman smiled cruelly,

Whipped his head and said,

“If you wish so, then so be it.

Your wish will be granted.”

“But remember this, little boy,

Don’t go bitter once you’ve looked.

For you shall be the first and you shall be the last,

The one forever on the hook.”

Whether the boy heard the last bit or not

Is not for me to say.

Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t,

I do not know to this very day.

With glee, the boy clapped.

"Such joy to be the first!

Such joy to win an honor so large,

Such joy to quench my thirst!”

With a grunt, the doorman moved

To reveal the wondrous, vast space.

The boy glanced inside

And something changed in his face.

The door closed behind him.

The doorman cackled mirthlessly,

“You’re as big a fool as you are an adventurer.

As you have wished, so you shall be.”

To this day, the boy roams the ditch,

Lonely and alone, but doesn’t regret it one bit.

His new name is Death, which he might hate,

But he never gets bitter, for he swore it.

By Mansi Shanbag