She says, she crosses mountains and valleys to reach there;
All she ever wants is to play.
I ask her, if she could listen to some stories
This little girl says No and starts sobbing;
I don't compel, I'm supposed to be a listener, then I console...
She told me, she's tired of stories and;
I could be her favorite Playmate; we smile.
I no longer ask her no questions; Neither do I read eyes,
I panic, What if I find pain? no love and no trust?
But as she smiles even the clouds descend;
Just to watch this sanguine child.
She must be an Angel, now I reckon.