The Doll

She slept with her doll,

She felt safe with her.

The doll with a button nose,

Button eyes and one less finger.

The doll was never separated from her,

To her belt, her hair remained tied.

Those button eyes might have scared some other kid,

But for her,

They were the worlds, where her happiness lied.

She was not just a doll,

She was a reminder.

Her mother had given the doll to her,

With a promise,

That she would come back to get her.

Years it had been,

Since she saw her mother.

At the empty platform,

With food worth a morsel in one hand,

And the button-eyed doll, in the other.

Her mother had kissed her forehead,

Tapped her back and asked her not to cry.

Before the wide-eyed girl could know what was happening,

She sat down with the man, who had a smile wry,

And went away.

The girl found her way through the mess,

She worked to live and lived to work,

Her life moved slowly,

Accompanied with countless jerks.

She knew that her mother was not coming back.

But hope never dies.

Every day, she would stare at the doll, hoping;

To hide her face in front of the lies.

She tried to forget her past,

But memories did linger.

In the doll with a button nose,

Button eyes and one less finger.