The Superstore Poem by Phil Soar

I stood awhile in a superstore aisle
And wondered if people were buying
But to my dismay, they were chatting away
While their children were screaming and crying

There were some on the phone, to their family back home
As they'd left the list back in the kitchen
There were those who looked out, for a bargain no doubt
And those who just stood around bitching!

And the queue at the till, grew much bigger until
And announcement was made, more would open
But the self service line, was much bigger than mine
And I noticed my trolley was broken

With one dodgy back wheel, as I started to reel
And my patience was wearing quite thin
The temptation was great, to return when it's late
And throw all my stuff in the bin

The car park was rammed, and the food was all scanned
By the time that I'd paid, I was knackered
And the guy volunteering, saw I had trouble steering
And asked if I wanted help packing

As he loaded my trolley, this bloke was too jolly
I felt that I could smash his face in
They had got all my cash, so I made quick dash
To the car, where a warden was pacing

He had written a note, which he stuck on my coat
To remind me I'd parked in 'Disabled'
So I wrote on his face, it was THE only space
And some refreshing ideas I had tabled

I won't go there again, for some superstore pain
As I hate the way that we're all sheep
We do everything there, while they all stand and stare
And when most of them are all asleep