When I was a boy, a young vibrant boy,
I had a stuffed bear who brought me great joy.
Teddy was his name despite youthful creativity abound;
for a young boy like me, no more suitable name could be found.
His overalls blue denim, his button eyes black, and a warm comforting smile he certainly did not lack.
Everywhere I went I carried Teddy around, gripping his hand tightly while his body hung limply towards the ground.
Everywhere I went I carried Teddy along, his friendship made me feel confident, ambitious, and strong.
Everywhere I went I carried Teddy close by, our adventures spent under the sun and the calming blue sky.
During our time together, there was never a moment I had not smiled or laughed.
Truly Teddy was an artist, and entertainment his craft.
Time passed and times changed, but Teddy was still my friend.
However, something grew strange as my age continued to ascend.
And so it became, my loving friend's comfort I could no longer enjoy.
I let go of Teddy's hand, and I was no longer a boy.