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Whoobs ... My Teddy Bear

Poetry By: joshua boyde
Poetry



To my teddy bear from his mates.


Submitted:Mar 29, 2010    Reads: 248    Comments: 3    Likes: 0   


My Teddy Bear

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He is old, he is grey, and he is a bit of a grump.
I don't know how he managed to not get thrown out with her junk.
He is battered and bruised having suffered some abuse.
He is full of speaker stuffing performed by four drunken youths.
He sits on the lounge ready with an excuse.

Whoobs where is the remote?
Whoobs was watching that.
Whoobs where is the last piece of cake?
Whoobs forgot to take the rubbish down.
Yes, he is my teddy bear.

He is a friend to all my mates.
He scores with all my dates.
He is not afraid to give a hug, knowing he is straight.
He can make a grown man cry over her lies.
He swears like a trooper and says what we think.
He is one of the crew.
Yes, he is our teddy-bear.

So here is to you Whoobs from all of your mates.

Ah ... sorry but it looks like Whoobs had the last beer.





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