My first memory was of a boy whose joy seeped through his ****** hands, he sewed my nose on, he dragged me in agony, screaming angrily that the world is filled with nothing but pain and men who were insane
but I knew deep in my heart
he was wrong.

My next memory was of another boy skipping merrily towards me his joy giving me hope, to secretly gloat that the Chinese boy was wrong, he wanted me, he need me, he loved me, the grand power of three, what every teddy bear wants
I came home with the boy whose joy made made me happy, I loved the boy named Lee and he loved me.

The years went by in haste, and our love faded at an alarming pace, I became a ghost perched on his bed wishing I was now dead, I cut a slot for my mouth and cotton and pain came out, I stole a bottle and went full throttle on the beer cursing anyone I ever held dear.

One day when the sun beamed and his eyes gleamed, for the first time in years he looked in my direction
then pulled out his *******
he stuffed it in my mouth and my seams tore as he called me a ***** *****, I was in pain, and he thrusted in and out again he gasped and toppled over,
finally
My mouth filled with his love, my cotton no longer the colour of a dove.
This is my life now, no reason to fight, the little chinese boy was right, life is not fair, I am no longer the bear of joy, instead I am the bear of misery and despair.
**** me now.