For We Must Not Cry

I love colours, I love colourful dresses more
Like what Little Amy wears
I love her yellow hair
They contrast deeply to my rich black hair
Her eyes are blue with thick lashes
I envy them a lot
She is my companion when I’m alone
She never says anything to me
But we understand each other perfectly

She is pretty, just as I am
That was why I asked for her
And on my 9th birthday, she was my gift
For being a good girl all year long

I wish I hadn’t been a good girl
I wish I couldn’t just get her off the shelf
I wish I didn’t own her
Just because she was pretty
Somehow, I know how she really feels
Because I feel it too
The bearded man picked me
Like I picked her off the counter
He thought I was pretty
Now, I am to him what Amanda is to me

He tells me he loves me
But every night, he hurts me
I have been told not to cry
Because that is what little girls are for
I try not to cry…but I do
The pain is so much…
I cry without meaning to
I bleed and I die a little inside
When he puts his monstrous play-thing in me

When he leaves, I’m hurting and sore
I crawl back to my bed…to Little Amy
I tell her how sorry I am
I should never have picked her off the shelf
It was greedy of me to want her for myself
I am too big and she is too little
Though I brush her golden hair every night
I can see the changes in the colour
I see the fine, golden strands
That sticks to the brush
While she grows bald

But she’s like me
She never complains because she can’t
Its what she was made for
I never see her tears
And he never sees mine
My song is sweet and loud
That I never hear her screams
When my fine comb pulls her scalp
Just the same way
His groans overshadow my screams of pain
As he thrusts over and over again

We share the comfort of each other
After every ordeal
Hers in silence, mine in muted sobs
For we must not cry


Malcolm O. Ifi

6 thoughts on “For We Must Not Cry” by Malcolm O. Ifi (@saymalcolm)

  1. This one is far better than the last which really got me irked…laughs. I love the way you juxtaposed her big that little doll of hers and the beast and her little self. Indeed the doll taught her so many things. Grit your teeth. Bite the pain. Close your eyes. See the stars….. Thunder fire that oldie sha. And all his likes in the real world. Animals on two feet

  2. Kleavajimcy (@Kleavajimcy)

    Nice 1

  3. this is nice…..touching

  4. Sad poem, @saymalcolm. Perhaps there were parts that weren’t as poetic as I would have liked, but I liked the way you used the imagery of the doll.

    Well done.

  5. kaymillion (@kaymillion)


Leave a Reply