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THE DAY IN THE LIFE OF A TEENAGER a poem
by Liana Wendy Howarth
10/20/13
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The sun has a-risen,
Stunning (hah!) clothes to wear,
My hair needs a makeover,
I collapse in the chair.

The alarmís still ringing,
Shrilling in my head,
An English exam today,
Why canít I stay in bed?

No one understands,
What I have to go through,
Day after day and always,
A million things to do.

Mumís yelling out,
And Dadís on the move,
Why canít they chill out,
And get with the groove?

Everyone fighting,
For breakfast, lunch and space,
What on earth is this all about,
This need to beat the human race?

No! I donít know what,
I want to do when I grow up (some more),
Iím in a hurry, going to be late,
So Iím running out the door.

Why canít they leave me alone,
Teachers, parents, friends?
Iím sure Iím trying my hardest,
Oh! Far out, Iíve forgotten my pens.

And as for that old English test,
The teachers all tell a different tale,
But it never finds its way onto the test,
Iím sure Iím going to fail.

My shoelaces need a-tying,
My shirt is all askew,
My shorts have slipped beyond the knees,
Iíll cry if I donít laugh, so that is what I do!

And now thereís talk of war far off,
As if thereís not enough at home,
I feel so alone and lonely,
I think Iíll run away and roam.

Iím sure no-one will miss me;
But I had better think again!
I passed a church on the way to school,
Heard a distant voice Ė ďhelp for pain.Ē

So I went inside the cool, dark church,
I sat at a pew and listened,
And the more the Pastor spoke,
The more my eyes cried and glistened.

I found what I had been looking for,
And I had definitely searched everywhere,
It wasnít on the television, or in the music store,
It wasnít in the mirror, or glossy magazine,
It wasnít in the pantry,
Or in one of the shopping malls,
Iíd always chilled out there ... and ...
I thought my friends would be all I wanted,
How wrong could I possibly be?

I nearly started smoking,
Drugs were next on the list,
No-one seemed to understand,
But now I know,
That I had indeed, been missed.

Because the Pastor explained to me,
For everything, just look,
Amongst all those Ďforeigní words,
In Godís gift, the answer, His Book!

And now when things donít go quite right,
And family life feels stressed,
I quietly try to re-direct them all,
So their minds do not get messed.

Thank you, thank you, Mum and Dad,
For making me walk to school,
For if Iíd caught that little, old bus,
I would have turned out such a fool.

copyright Liana Wendy Howarth 2012

poetrycottage@gmail.com

www.poetrycottage.wordpress.com

www.poetrycottage.com


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Member Comments
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Patricia Coldiron 06 Jan 2015
Great Poem Liana. I really enjoyed reading it.




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