Suraya Moner - XI A


Once upon a daytime’s dream,

Lying beside my owner by the stream,

Enjoying the vibes of the western wind,
Giving us solace and a sound mind.

But if only all this was still real.

I now sit under the bed, dreary.
Long forgotten, weak and weary.
My stuffed body covered with dust
And my still pouting face waiting for just,

My owner to come and fetch me.

For her I was the only mate
All festivals together we celebrate
All secrets and stories we share
Are now memories that upon I swear

To treasure until no end.

Minutes, hours, days and years.
I cried with dry tears.
For I was no more than a tool for fun
Waiting for its owner to return

Longing for it to be needed.

Yet, I’ll stay preserved
Waiting for her assured,
Assured that by her I’m loved,
We’ll again reach the seventh cloud,

For we are each other’s treasure trove.

I’m her favorite doll and precious toy,
I’m her pride and joy,
And sweetness is what follow bitterness.
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