The Teddy Bear I am

 

I have stitches where your veins might be;

Wounds sewn up by a needle’s thread.

Where you slash and let blood flow freely,

From me white, ethereal wool is bled.

My eyes see naught but your fingers’ touch;

Black coins, the weaver’s notes, upon my face.

This smile, held in place to be your crutch

Remains forever, gripped by your embrace.

Some soft brown fur surrounds my frame

To please your innocent attention,

You cradle me and snuggle me lame,

And that discharges you of tension.  

 

With my arm in hand, you walk along your way,

Intent to show off to the world your drudge,

My body’s pulled whichever path you say,

As I wish to face that kind, all-mighty Judge.

When the trail you pass is soil tied with dirt,

It seems that I’m to be drawn by rope and hanged,

Yet then you pull me up from that desert

To hold me dear as if I, like an angel, sang.

Your face shined bright beneath the solar waves

With a warm and caressing grin alight;

It brought me from my shallow grave,

Though I knew still that it was trite.

 

But that was very well, I should not weep,

I continued to bring repose for you,

But despite a solemn, silent love to keep,

My purpose, I made sure to hold on through.

So each and every day I kept a promise

Even when the moon was set in place,

And when you dressed me with your kiss,

I dared not allow myself to fall from grace:

Each night, you whisper of sweet Paradise,

Where your words do not share but only tell,

And then each morn you show your vice,

As you drag me through the filth of Hell.

Reviews

[Natasha]

I now feel sorry for every stuffed animal I own...

I like how you've managed to turn a simple child's toy into a being.
Something much more than what we wish to see.