Her five-year-old, tender, soft hands
Brush the torn ear
Of the stuffed bear that's been there
To comfort her
On sleepless nights,
Through her fitful colic episodes,
First day of school,
During mom and dad's fights.
She caresses the ***** brown hair,
Love flowing through her fingertips.

Like that little child,
Can you still see me,
The one who has helped you
Since day one?
Through illnesses,
Deaths,
Change...
My ear may be ripped
And my skin may be worn,
But somewhere deep in your heart
Do you have that simple, child-like courage
To love me anyways?