All Grown-up

It seems he's reached his limit.
The dreadful feeling sinks in.
This time would be my last time
feeling pure human skin.

The closet door closes.
Darkness drowns out his light.
What could I have done to witness
such a sickening sight?

I used to be his favorite.
For hours, we would play.
And though my fur would be frizzled,
I smiled throughout the day.

He tossed me, and threw me,
and cut me up with glee.
My stuffing bled out often, but
that was expected of me.

From the moment I left the shelf,
no, from the second I was sewn.
I anticipated pain.
A fact for lands unknown.

But this, this was unbearable.
A pun, did you smile?
Apologies, my humor precedes me.
A learned trait from my child.

His glow was brilliant,
and his aura? Unmatched.
With a flash of his teeth,
the world's sadness would run flat.

But they ruined him, spoiled him,
ripped joy straight from his soul.
"Be a man, you damned child".
The voice swallowed him whole.

I've caught a million tears.
Still soaked into my frame.
I'm sorry, dear child.
You are not to blame.

You've come running to me
at odd hours in the night.
Strange streaks adorned your back
and it didn't seem right.

Perhaps it was your character.
Your heart, incredibly brave.
Jealous they might've been
of your childish ways.

Free from expectations,
you were no slave to the man.
Your brain was not attached
to his dastardly plan.

Grown-ups had no choice.
You knew this very well.
Forced to succumb to his will,
just to stay living in hell.

Or maybe, it was your expression,
your imagination, your sight.
Your vision, your talent,
your youth, or your might.

Whatever it was,
they envied it, so,
they ended it, for you.
Overcast your glow.

Alas, I did not know.
I swore not to pry.
But what could've hurt you so harshly
that it was visible to the eye?

And when your breath would hick,
when your head would pound,
when your laugh was strained,
how I hated the sound.

Your purity is gone.
Your mind has been tainted.
Though your crayons still lay here,
your new world has been painted.

I'm sorry, I couldn't help you.
It is completely my fault.
So young, you've already turned
into a fully-fledged adult.

Your creativity, discarded.
Your hopes, all dropped.
It was inevitable, of course.
It couldn't be stopped.

Soon, you would've matured,
leaving me to fall.
But then, I would've cheered,
knowing you were gone.

If you grew naturally,
as normally as you could,
I would've cried of joy
as a stuffed parent should.

But again, you are ruined.
Spoiled and stripped.
"Be a man, you damned child".
Hatred spewed from their lips.

Rest easy, as you sleep.
And always know,
that I will surely remember you
as your memories go.

Rest easy, dear child.