Your sad lonely eyes
stare up from the bin.
I’m too old for you now,
but this feels like a sin.
Teddy, oh darling teddy,
you always were the best,
but now I’m thirteen,
you must be binned with the rest.
I remember very well
how I took you everywhere
and at dinner, I insisted,
you simply must have a chair.
You were always there
when I laughed or shed a tear
and when I told my secrets
you always seemed to hear.
You had so many outfits
you sparkled head to toe.
As I remember, I wonder
where did all your clothes go?
Yet you must stay inside the bin,
I am much too old.
I hope, dear Ted,
that I don’t seem cold.
Why am I talking to you anyway?
It’s not as if you can listen.
But as I stare at your poor small face
my eyes begin to glisten.
I suddenly realise,
I really do need my bear.
Just because I’m thirteen
doesn’t mean I do not care.
I’m never too old for you,
I need you, I cannot lie.
I promise I will keep you
Right up until I die.