This Little Teddy

This little teddy, my brown little teddy,
with the beads shaking inside.
Its eyes and its mouth, as black as coal,
I took it everywhere, even outside.

I used to hear it talk to me,
saying 'Stay with me, I love you.'
I never hear it any more, I never even said, 'I love you too'.

I hold it in my hands right now,
its dark brown skin still rough.
I remember when I got it, memories coming back at full speed,
so I tell my brain: 'Enough!'

I put it back on top of my cupboard,
up there in my room.
I decide to put it at the back of my mind,
leaving it back to its tomb.