I think this is the day you throw me away.
You’re growing up.
You are to old.
You can never hold on to someone like me.
How can you stand the sight of me?
I am just a memory.
Of how we used to be.
When we use to laugh and play.
But now that has gone away.
So why must we pretend like there is more here.
I fear we are done, my dear.
This is goodbye
I am understanding this to be about a favorite stuffed teddy bear, is that correct? I like how you talk about the bear as if it were a real friend, which is exactly how we see our favorite stuffed animals when we are young children. I like this poem very much. Well done!
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