Today I will count to three
And today I will push in the lock button on my bedroom door
And today I will thrash around alone looking for objects to break in a fit of temper
And the things I cannot get
The frustration of being 16 years old
Will stay with me for a lifetime
And I remember….
The girl whose picture is on the cereal box
Be she gymnast, cheerleader, or housewife
Exists only for the purpose of advertisement
And as I turn her upside down to fill my cereal bowl
I think of a utopia where no one lies
And noble nervous wrecks such as I
Are celebrated and revered
But for now,
I draw a moustache on her face
And I cut out her eyes
On the back,50 cents off further cereal purchases
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have expressed your feelings of reaction about the persons on your cereal box. Upheavel of emotions of a sixteen old. Normal. You wrote these in lines beautifully. Keep on writing.