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19 November 2008 @ 01:51 am
Poem: Bear's Bildungsroman  
I met this boy when he was born —
they laid me in his bed.
Before he sat or even smiled,
I cradled him at night.

And even as he grew to heights
enough to leave the crib,
I loved him when he sucked his thumb
and hugged him while he slept.

He learned to tug my ears and fur
as his hands became stronger
and just as soon as he could walk
together, we’d adventure.

From attic to the cellar door
he’d drag me by my limbs.
Even though I lost my leg once
his mother sewed it back.

Those days were best, the glory days,
of Billy and of Bear --
the famed explorers, world-renowned,
the greatest of them all.

But now my bowtie isn’t straight
and I have lost an eye
the seam that mother sewed long
ago has come undone.

I never cradle Billy’s head
it’s far too big for that
instead I choke on the long hair
of that girl he brings home.

And when I fall behind the bed
and begin to gather dust,
I wait for Billy to pull me out
and remember glory days.