INNOCENCE
Torn clothes, rough hair, a burn scar—
I wonder where she is.
Maybe adopted by a safe land,
still afraid of the dark, the smoke,
and a voice too high.
Lying with hollow eyes,
staring at the starry sky—
I wonder where she is.
Maybe in a refugee haven,
still starving to feed one younger than her.
Alongside a graveyard of dreams and desires…
I wonder where she is.
In a wrecked shelter once called home—
not warm enough to battle the cold inside.
You may wonder why I am so optimistic.
Because—
I was her doll, and she was mine.
There is no mortality in Doll Land
Manahil Tahir is an MBBS student from Pakistan whose writing explores memory, conflict, and quiet resilience at the intersection of humanity and psychology.
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