The life crammed into
This warm room;
Where pictures hold on to a time gone by;
Where random junk can’t be thrown away
For the memories that that linger.
These memories,
Must be left in a box and put away;
The laughter and the lonely tears
Must stay here.
This home left behind.
The life
flows out of
This warm
room,
Onto the
staircase with worn carpet,
Into the world
we thought would sit
The same way
forever.
These
memories,
Must grow up
and be torn away;
Must laugh
and cry their lonely tears
Somewhere
else,
This home
left behind.
