A weathered bear,
Faded,
In a corner on its own.
A sheet of dust covers it
Like death covers our own.
Its eyes are black,
Deep black,
Filled with an emptiness
That didn't always exist
And that smile,
That it used to have when we'd
swing
On our favorite swing out back.
The green thread
In your back leg
Sewed by Dr. Mom
When days with you
Were all I had.
And those arms,
That I tucked warmly under mine,
As mom kissed us goodnight.
We cuddled close and tight.
Those soft ears,
That caught my tears,
When i felt afraid or mad.
You were something I always had.
Yet here you lie in a corner
Covered in dust
Like death covers our own.
Holding tight to that old memory,
While I hold on tight to life.
