Creating together

Time for experiments!

This is one of  (hopefully many) in this website. .


A poem. Alexander Pearce. A Thief?

It was only noon when Alexander started walking

He had no shoes, felt hungry, feeling almost naked.

He glanced at barons, baronesses, rich and happy.

What was he to do, to be like them, to have a smile?


Alexander had a friend: barefoot, hungry, pitiful.

He too was a laborer, like Alexander, almost slave.

He worked for bread,  he slept for it, but did he get it?

What did he wake for, if not to share his misery?


Alexander had a goal: yes, to steal a shoe or two.

Some had twenty, he had none,  he wanted to.

Evil was this goal, but wasn’t everyone.. just Evil?

Friend of Alexander’s did agree, yet he did nothing.



Knowing the real story of Alexander Pearce (, we can continue this poem, or then create similar ones  or discuss issues the poem discusses or tell a modern Alexander’s story … I don’t set any particular rules, just what is written will be added to the end of the poem, adding the alias of author to it:)

People imprisoned and/or isolated in harsh conditions end up by becoming beasts.Even if their original fault was very small (eg:stealing some shoes) or even non-existent.

Another desert island pessimistic story on losing one’s humanity is Golding’s Lord of the Flies. Children left alone on an island end up by killing themselves:

But also remember of Jean Valjean’s character from the classic Les Miserables who spent 19 years in prison for stealing a bread.The time spent in prison almost transformed him in a monster.But Victor Hugo says there is always HOPE and one only needs to be treated with kindness to become again human.

What do you believe about human nature?

One thought on “Creating together

  1. susirupines

    I think human nature could be whatever we want it to, it’s just these circumstances that decide everything. For a character in Les Miserables, or any character, it first takes 19 or so years to really become a human or become a someone – because he is – only a little miracle – when he is born. I think, but can hardly imagine, what inner struggles happen for a man that’s faced with this choice – give in, or give up. I hope it is possible to find out a bit by continuing the poem.

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