Written By: Nora Franklin
March 16, 2015
In the dark, under springs, a dirty teddy bear sits. Left by himself, collecting dust, he remenisces old things. Where is your mind, Mr. Teddy, what sees? "I miss the past, but things change." Here he sits forever, for years. "Up all children must grow." I close my eyes. He is still. Teddy Bears. Know.