Sisters

She watches the little one,
looking out of the window.
The worn out doll,
clutched tight.
Too young to understand, yet
deep within, does she know?

Her heart aches more than her arms,
cradling the kid all night long.
Having to grow up in a moment,
her own childhood gone.
The tears remain unshed,
for ever and more.

"Can you call mommy again?
She should be home by now."
Innocent eyes look up to her.
Trusting the world’s
convenient lies.

She tries to hold her close
and whisper the truth,
as it should be told.
"She won’t answer the phone, little one.
Mom is not coming home anymore"

© Chhaya


image by William Adolphe Bouguereau (Two Sisters)

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