I miss when wallbear was just an innocent word
for an innocent beast, wandering east to east
He would toddle over in his sleek coat and grin
Take out his dental floss from his dental crops
No worry ever about giving to us with the least
He shared, he cared, but one day he got thin
Wallbear wasn't who he was, never was, see
but then he went and sold his Name for a fee.
Now he's just the Wallbear, or last I've heard.
Anchored to the place, his whole self altered.
Poor Wallbear is always where his title says
He ought to be, snarling and standing still
Ready on order to charge, strike, and kill
I look from my window on my elbows
I meet his wild eyes, all the way across
I still see our bear, and sadly he knows
that he'll never go back to his silly floss.
Submitted: May 31, 2020
© Copyright 2023 Luna Abbot. All rights reserved.
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