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(December 27 1997)

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A Runaway

‘Is there a problem darling? ’
‘Just leave me alone mom! ’
She banged the door on her mom’s innocent blink
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Comments about this poem (My Life- A Beach by Aditi Khandelwal )

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  • Dean Bottomley (4/14/2014 5:08:00 AM)

    I might feel the emotion in your poem a lot more than some as I am 18 and have thoughts about running away from things I couldn’t handle and couldn’t change. it is a very powerful piece of writing, thank you

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  • Cat Hodgson (4/14/2014 5:02:00 AM)

    good rhyming, She didn’t accept to be forgiven

  • Michelle Claus (4/13/2014 10:18:00 PM)

    Affecting poem. Looking over the first two stanzas, I'm curious as to why she wanted to run away from home and from school. Icky-Becky-Prickly-Stool spawns questions. Very raw writing, and provocative. How do you feel about the almost-rhymes? I have mixed feelings.

  • Richard Blay (4/13/2014 6:07:00 PM)

    Francis, I agree with you, nonetheless, the message is so great and realistic. Thanks

  • Francis Lynch (4/13/2014 10:45:00 AM)

    Very good. In need of serious editing. Then it will be extrremely good. A bit of the Beatles here too (She's leaving home) .

  • Tiku . (4/13/2014 12:29:00 AM)

    Seems from a real life story.Liked the way it has been presented.

  • ishant Bhurani (1/21/2014 7:49:00 AM)

    Made me remember the song Nobody's home by Avril Lavigne.. Heart touching.. [/3

  • ..... W@king Up..... (4/13/2013 10:23:00 PM)

    Beautiful poem, so rich and full of meaning :)

  • Savita Tyagi (4/13/2013 9:57:00 AM)

    Beautiful heart touching poem. So often impulsive behavior is glorified and some children fall for that.

  • Hardik Vaidya (4/13/2013 6:22:00 AM)

    Aditi the poem is lovely. It is written with rich feel. Has the texture of raw naked life. It is real in appeal and unlike a composition which sits pretty on a well framed plastic or wooden bed. However as a subject opinion I do differ, not on the realisation of the lady in the poem, but on her treatment. This treatment is expected, it is what perhaps happens but that is not the definition of home. A home is one whose doors are always open. In india unfortunately the tendency of doors at homes are to be shut more for women then for sons. What if the character in your poem was a son, what if we went for 3 years, each night went out for parties with different divas, and after 3 years realised his mom and dad though with differences meant a world to him and returned. Do you think as a poet the door would be shut? God bless, you are a very deep writer.

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