Posted by: Chris Brew | January 31, 2017

Under the spotlight

spot

 

Lights up, camera on, what’s my bit?
A poem? a song? Maybe a painting?
A two-handed drama as gritty as grit?
I can’t think of anything, I am found wanting.
I dropped my talent in the washing up
The Fairy Liquid dissolved it in the bowl
There used to be words, now there’s just stuff
Nothing to see when I open my soul
I wrote a sonnet, but it was eaten by the dog
I spilled the quatrains in my fruit salad
I caught the couplets sneaking out for a snog
The final line, frankly, was weak, shallow, and pallid.
In this house you’re remorselessly held to the standard
Do something brilliant in front of your grandad

Written in ten minutes for a family talent show. If you can’t make the last couplet work, remember that I speak British, so “standard” does rhyme with “grandad”. And look up “snog” if you need to. Other rhymes, well, ten minutes!

 

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