I am sitting in a Waitrose trolley,
As my friends run me along,
For it is eleven at night,
And my parents and I,
Have been fighting,
Which I hate, but we have,
So many disagreements,
As they don’t approve of my boyfriend,
Or my wild, outgoing friends.
I should be a good little girl,
And sit in front of the computer,
And do my coursework,
But I have a rebel heart,
I go out every night,
Although I am not a tart,
I just follow my heart,
And love my boyfriend so much.
My friends keep me sane,
I do know the teenage years,
Are hard, but they are great, too,
And teenagers don’t always feel blue,
We all have heart and soul,
Once that school bell goes.
And I wear clothes,
That my parents don’t approve of,
Short skirts and heels,
For I love those fashion magazines,
I have started to read Cosmo,
All my friends’ older sisters do.
My bedroom walls,
Are covered in boyband posters,
And my floor is a work in progress,
But it is my room and my parents,
Are not welcome;
Even when I’m supposed to wash up.
So here I am tonight,
Running away in a Waitrose trolley,
My friends racing me along,
And school used to go slowly,
But I graduate soon,
And I shall never forget my friends,
These days, this young life,
My heart racing with happiness,
Moving with an escaping,
Waitrose trolley.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the title! I see so many shopping trollies scattered around the streets. Good interesting poem. (Good luck with your studies)