I am the scab of London's cityscape...

I know everyone is panting to read the tantalizing stories of my weekend, but I just turned in a 10 page, 2900 word critical analysis essay on the identity and sense of home of Asian immigrants in England's diasporic communities as expressed in literature. Please forgive me for the delay.

In the meantime, it is creative writing week, so I can share with you what I wrote for class this morning.

Background:
We were evaluating a poem's voice - and the fact that the voice of a poem can be an inanimate object (rock, cloud, or Statue of Liberty).

So, we wrote from the perspectives of inanimate objects this morning.
Our inspiration - a piece by Syliva Plath. See if you can guess what she is. (Don't cheat by googling her name or lines from this poem).

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful -
The eye of a little god, four cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candle or the moon
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

Now my poem.. Clue: we had to write from the perspective of a London landmark.

I'm the scab of London's cityscape.
They wanted something futuristic.
Why? To celebrate a new age.
But I'm industrial, almost,
Like they left the cranes,
Yellow and towering,
Even after the construction.
New architectural design
For people who fear the end of time is nigh.
Time blinked on.
The end did not come.
They sold my dome.
I'm a corporate advertisement now.
Friends say, "Meet you there,"
Come for food and entertainment
And leave thinking they need a new phone.

P.S. Forgive me - I am not trying to be a creative poet in my future career.

Answers posted soon! (Stories too!) Enjoy!

Editor's Note: Answer - the O2 Millenium Dome