Jul 09, 2007 00:36
I was reading through some of my old poetry, and most of it sucked, but I was actually kind of proud of this one:
Toy
Child,
I am old.
We used to play,
and you called me Teddy--
you called me a beautiful thing.
But my cotton-fluff stuffing
is fading to dust,
and my black button eyes
are grey.
I am old (over-loved), Child,
and I cannot stay.