My reluctant 10 year old poet following our discussion about taking responsibility wrote this poem. The discussion started because of a hole he discovered in his sock. He had no idea how the hole possibly got there:
There is a hole in my sock
What happened to it?
I do not know
Perhaps my brother made this hole in it
Perhaps my sister bit into it
Maybe a rat did it
I know, perhaps it was me
Everyone gets holes in their socks sometimes
But they never point fingers
So now I ‘ll take responsibility
This sock is mine
This hole is mine
