A Small Life

I attend a writing class. We meet in the very chilly basement of the Amnesty Bookshop, after closing, once a week. Surrounded by stacks of books with improbable titles we read out our work and thrash out ideas. The group is led by a local author and playwright who sets us weekly “homework” to inspire our writing.

Once a term it’s poetry. I’m rubbish at poetry. Love reading it but can’t write it so I always do something daft. This terms poetry homework we were given one line from a song and had to use that as the inspiration and first line of our poem.

I’m going to let you suffer; here is my poem.

 

 

A Small Life

 

 The beast in me is caged by frail and fragile bars

And I want to reach through them and touch the stars

But I’m only a hamster and I don’t know what stars are

Can you eat them?

The beast in me is run ragged on the wheel

And I race around with such passion and zeal

But I’m only a hamster is zeal a meal?

I hope so.

The beast in me whirls around in a plastic ball

That spins down the stairs at the end of the hall

I’m only a hamster is this my all?

Probably.

 

Hamster

A frail and fragile hamster

 

Extra points if you can name the song and artist.

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15 thoughts on “A Small Life

  1. Wonderful depiction of hamsterness! Especially “I don’t know what stars are / Can you eat them?” and the flummoxed expression on your hamster’s face – I can almost see its whiskers twitching while it ponders your questions.

  2. Loved your poem, Ziggy. I have been feeling that way lately, so it really spoke to me. I had to Google who wrote the line–looks like Johnny Cash. He was a musical god! Keep writing and illustrating, and I’ll do the same–to shoot those hamsters right up to the stars : )

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