Purple and fuzzy, somewhat unruly Sitting comfortably atop the bed. It’s missing a nose, it’s missing an eye It’s covered in patches with a loose thread Its ribbon is gone. It’s tattered and torn. It’s been hugged, It’s been thrown, yet he’s not dead. He’s often replaced, left out in the rain But he is there when you have all the feels He’ll stay right here, He’ll share your company Like the neglected Best Friend that he is.