*this book was given to me by dadi rak... he was very fond of it. he was all smiles when he handed it over to me. these are the lines from the 1st page...*
No Room
When my mom decides to run away from home
she packs up her car
with all the things that matter most
to her.
Her guitar
and some books
all her CDs
her clothes
her shoes
Grandma's music box from the fireplace mantle
and the quilt from the bed she shares with Dad.
She jams plastic grocery bags
filled with soap and shampoo
between the small spaces
left in between things
and tied a couple of suitcases to the roof.
At the last minute she
throws in a few dishes
some towels
and a potted red geranium
that guards the front porch.
Dad tells her not to pack stuffs too high
so she can still see out the back window
but she ignores him
and shoves her pillow
between her guitar case and portable TV.
By the time she's done
there's no room left for anything else.
No room left for Dad.
And no room left for me.
2 comments:
is this a poem or a song?
its a poem. actually, the story was written using poems.
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