The strewn stitches, still smiling,
Still attempting to bring joy, but no joy comes.
An unnoticed cog in the wheel.
Like a drug addict craving a fix, this one craving a hug,
His chest ripped open, his warm soul stolen.
His eyes, unblinking, look on,
Forever…
Forever searching for a friend.
As an apostle searches for their god.
Tattered cloth flesh, smudged and blackened with dust.
A saint in fur, thrown away,
Still, still, still forgotten,
Like a wrapper after the candy.
The rips, the tears, the holes still remain.
The constant reminders of being uncared for.
A Burn from a week under the heater,
A rip in his chest, a gift from the dog,
Mold from the box in the moist basement,
His prison for the last six years.
.The child grew up,
No need for a bear,
Real friends now
No need for a toy,
No need for the memories,
New ones to be made.
No need for a forgotten, soulless smile.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 11:42 PM UTC
The strewn stitches, still smiling,
Still attempting to bring joy, but no joy comes.
An unnoticed cog in the wheel.
Like a drug addict craving a fix, this one craving a hug,
His chest ripped open, his warm soul stolen.
His eyes, unblinking, look on,
Forever…
Forever searching for a friend.
As an apostle searches for their god.
Tattered cloth flesh, smudged and blackened with dust.
A saint in fur, thrown away,
Still, still, still forgotten,
Like a wrapper after the candy.
The rips, the tears, the holes still remain.
The constant reminders of being uncared for.
A Burn from a week under the heater,
A rip in his chest, a gift from the dog,
Mold from the box in the moist basement,
His prison for the last six years.
.The child grew up,
No need for a bear,
Real friends now
No need for a toy,
No need for the memories,
New ones to be made.
No need for a forgotten, soulless smile.
A poem for a forgotten toy. Sad, but true. Enjoy and comment!
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