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.