These poems were written using a ‘list poem’ model. See the category ‘teachers’ for how it works.
A poor child in 1840, by Aaron
My head is big and round.
My eyes are blue and cold.
My mouth is big and fat.
My voice is loud and funny.
My hands are big and long.
My body is a garbage bag.
My hair is ticklish and funny.
My feet are black and blue.
But when I speak I say “help me and my friends.”
A poor child in 1840, by Alice
My head is a cracking shell My eyes are red, redder than lavaMy mouth is swollen skin
My tongue is a crocodile’s tail
My voice is a croaky frog
My hands are only bones, so thin they’re like sticks
My body is as dark as the night sky
My hair is a rusty bush scrunched in a bun
My feet are cold and blue
But when I speak I say “please help me, give me a home, don’t let me die on the streets, if you don’t help me then a few weeks later you come and you’ll see a dead body, please help me!!”
A poor child in 1840, by Masum
My head is a star in a winter night. My eyes are balls.My mouth is a cat’s mouth.
My tongue is a snake’s tongue.
My voice is quick and fast.
My hands are skinny.
My body is skinny.
My hair is dusty and black.
My feet are dusty and navy blue.
But when I speak I say “Can you find my pennies?”
A Poor child in 1840, by Mona
My head is a brick abandoned. I have no eyes; all I have is isolated tears.My mouth is ordinary but dribbling with hunger.
My voice is loud and screechy because I sell matches.
When I light up a match at night, that’s the sound of my voice.
My hands are cold, dirty like the garbage.
My hair is straight with bits of matches and things on the streets.
My feet are match boxes, sad, lonely and lost.
When I speak I say “Mum and Dad are not dead” when they are.
A Poor child in 1840, by Nazma
My head is a round head and with holes in it and blood dripping down. My eyes are round and holes in it and blood dripping down. My mouth is made of holes and blood.
My tongue is made of holes and foam, hot pepper and blood.
My voice is like ashes.
My hands are made of holes and blood.
My body is made of holes and blood.
My feet have holes and blood.
My hair is made of seaweed.
But When I speak I say “Please” and “Thank you.”
A Poor child in 1840, by Ruhanara
My head is pear shaped. My eyes are grey as the floor.My mouth is wide as 6cm.
My tongue is spotty over the tongue.
My voice is smooth and gruff.
My hands are spotty and bones are coming out.
My body is skinny and lonely and rattling.
My hair is curly.
My feet are weak like a turtle.
But when I speak say “Please help me, I’m poor.”
A Poor child in 1840, by Salam
My head is surrounded with scorpions My eyes are ice and my eyes are like circular cabbage.My mouth is very big like the moon
My mouth is hot like lava.
My voice is really poor and creaky
My voice is like I am crying.
My hands are really wrinkly like the stars
My hands are really old like an old man.
My feet are really old like an old man
My feet are so weak like an old man.
But when I speak I say “aaa…..”
But when I speak I say “I’m hungry.”
A Poor child in 1840, by Shobna
My head is round like an old peach. My eyes are moony, creamy white.My mouth is a size of a small little ant.
My voice is as soft and croaky as a witch.
My hands are wrinkly, you can see my veins.
My hair is all grey like an old man.
My foot is spotty.
But when I speak I say “can I have some spare change?”
A poor child in 1840, by Siobhan
My head is small, round and tatty. My eyes are black holes.My mouth is small and floppy.
My voice is quiet and croaky.
My hands are small, wrinkly, dry and sore.
My hair is short, rough and knotty.
My feet are heavy like weights and they are wrinkly.
But when I speak I say “I’m poor. I’m lonely, I need a family.”
A poor child in 1840, by Syeda
My eyes are two paper balls stuck on. My head is a garbage bag.My body is some bricks stuck together so the brick gets long with cement.
My hands are some sticks covered in some old clothes.
My feet are clothes all rolled up and stuck on.
My mouth is a garbage bag cut up and stuck on my face.
My hair is strips of garbage bags.
My shoes are made out of garbage pieces.
My voice is cold and screechy.
When I speak I say “hello I am a child from faraway, can you help me?”
A poor child in 1840, by Tasnim
My head is a red, half bitten apple. My eyes are fire balls.My mouth is made out of holes and blood dripping down.
My voice is croaky like a bird.
My hand is tied and can’t move at all.
My hair is black.
My feet are old and hot.
But when I speak I say “Can I live with you?”
A poor child in 1840, by Zuned
My head is round with a ragged face. My eyes are as dark as the night sky.My mouth is as small as a bottle lid.
My voice is as croaky as a rat.
My hands are as wrinkly as an old man’s face.
My hair is bald.
My feet are as spotty as a dalmation.
But when I speak I say “man” after every sentence.
A poor child in 1840, by Anika
My head is a dustbin and it is old and empty. My eyes are a basket, small and has a pillow on top of it.My mouth is like an apple that is green and is half bitten.
My voice is like a broken chair made out of wood.
My hands are sharp knives.
My hair is curly and has worms all over it.
My feet are as cold as it were in a cottage.
When I speak I say “please help me?”
A poor child in 1840, by Fahmida
My head is like a cat’s claw. My eyes are buttons, sewed imperfectly.My mouth is always zipped because I hardly brush my teeth.
My mouth also drools with saliva and it’s the only water I have.
My voice sounds like a croaky witch’s voice, that’s why I’m quiet.
My hands are so wrinkly and frozen that I can’t open them up.
My hair is bushy and kind of like straws.
My feet are all bare and blue around my feet,
But when I speak I say “oh god please help me”
A poor child in 1840, by Jessie
My head is a little bit small but very round. My eyes are very small and black.My mouth is very dry and white
My tongue is red and small and very spotty
My voice is very mopey, weepy and very quiet
My hands are soft and wrinkly
My body is skinny and smooth
My hair is short and black
My feet are small and smooth
But when I speak I say “someone help me please, I’m very poor.”
A poor child in 1840, by Meju
My head is as round as a ball with spots. My eyes are small with dark water.My mouth is as huge as a giant cake.
My voice is grey.
My hands have some reddish, brownish spots on them.
My hair is curled with bits coloured red and green.
My feet are so slimy that I can’t look at them.
But when I speak I say “I never want to go home because I love it here”.
A poor child in 1840, by Muneb
My head is a sponge with liquid over it. My eyes are chicken legs that are rotten.My mouth is like sheep’s wool.
My tongue is made out of one piece of paper.
My voice is as deep as the ocean.
My hands are wooden sticks.
My hair is made out of seaweed.
My body is made out of bricks.
My feet are seashells with blood dripping down.
But when I speak I say “please” and “thank you.”
A poor child in 1840, by Ray
My head is like the moon. My eyes are lumps of black coal dead.My mouth is has the taste of yellow rotten eggs.
My tongue is dry like a river bed in summer.
My voice is low and dark like a cave.
My hands are rough and dry from the hot sun.
My body is cold and wants to lie down and sleep.
My hair is string like hay in a field.
My feet are heavy like waves pulling me down
But when I speak I say “somebody please care for me.”
A poor child in 1840, by Rummena
My head is round as a ball, and it is hard. My eyes are small and dark like I didn’t have sleep.My eyes are thin as dry spaghetti.
My mouth is clean, but it is dry, unless I drink water, it becomes shiny as a star.
My voice is as squeaky as an old gate opening.
My hands are cold, I hardly move them.
I just use them to eat and hold my walking stick.
After I take my hands off my walking stick, it’s red as fire.
My hair is cut up, it’s nearly bald.
One of my feet is chopped off and one of them is ok.I do mind that my foot is chopped off,
But sometimes I don’t because I’m used to it.
But it’s hard walking with a walking stick.
When I speak I say “I want my mum and dad back.”
A poor child in 1840, by Sinead
My head is a dry, brown cardboard box. My eyes are old, black buttons.My mouth is a white, pointy scratch.
My tongue is a long, dirty sock.
My voice is old and scratchy.
My hands are made out of old, hard wood.
My body is skinny and small.
My hair is long and it smells.
My feet are dirty and dusty.
When I speak I say “help me.”
A poor child in 1840, by Stephen
My head is an elephant’s foot. My eyes are twinkling stars that say “please adopt me, please.”My mouth is a banana skin facing downwards.
My voice is the chirping of a robin.
My hands are sausages with a piece of eggshell as nails.
My hairs are strings of spaghetti.
My feet are the bodies of two blackbirds.
When I speak I say “take me as your beloved child, I’m begging you.”
A poor child in 1840, by Zasia
My head is round and ripped. My eyes are like cold ice,My mouth is as creeping as a mouse.
My voice sounds like a creaking chair.
My hands are big as the sun.
My hair is tall as old brick buildings.
But my feet are cold as orange juice in the fridge.
