Song Of The Little Girl Poem by Ipshita Chakraborty

he called me everyday at half past six
to play li’l games, footballs and kicks,
we played and played till the mud scorched our face
we fell and bled, but left not a trace;
he always stopped when i fell down
he’d stoop and fix my broken crown
i would then smile and it would suffice
for both of us to dry up our eyes
and hold hands and run anew
to fall again and bleed so true.
then one day some cool boys came
and asked if they could play our game
we readily agreed and he liked them more
for they were more fun, adventures galore
one of the adventures entailed being a man
the first test was to swing and jump off a fan
his friends clapped as he passed the test
but he wouldn't be a man until he cleared the rest
in the second test, he had to ride
his bicycle; his eyes shut with a cloth tied
his friends were awed; he was the new king
i couldn't reach him; i had clipped wings
his last test was the toughest bet
one that he would always regret
while i played with my doll that day
he walked up to me; his eyes astray
i looked up at him; he snatched my doll
he broke its leg till tears began to fall
on my cheeks; i pleaded with him
to not do this; sorrow abrim
his friends laughed as he ripped it apart
and i wept for he broke my doll and heart,
rage took over then and i pushed him hard
he slapped me back with his friends as guards
he looked into my eyes and walked away
i waited for him day after day
he will never come back, i heard my doll say
so i wiped my tears and went back to play.