A Hamster Called Kevin Poem by Deborah White

Five pairs of bleary wet eyes
all staring into a tiny neat box.
Looking at Kevin, just lying there
Eyes tight shut and fast asleep.
A teeny teddy and baby trinkets
by his side. Wrapped lovingly and
carefully in small frilly white socks.


Why am I still standing crying so much
and for so long over Kevin. When the
children have long dried their tears,
and set aside their hurt and fears.
Simply because I told them, Kevin is
safe and happy on his favourite wheel,
playing with friends in hamster heaven.


Their first everlasting sad farewell,
and in their childish innocent grief.
I didn’t have the heart after all, I just
couldn’t bring myself to whisper or
to speak, and tell them the truth.
Kevin is not Kevin. He really should
be Goldie, Twinkle, or maybe Ruth.