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?
Extra points if you can name the song and artist.