In a box, he arrived,
On the living room floor.
Sight and sound deprived,
Now rescued, free once more.
Her companion, through thick and thin,
Proudly wears his name upon his breast.
His furry face sports a grin,
And on his arm, the Army Crest.
The hard Slouch Hat upon his head,
Shields the windows to his soul.
Taking it off triggers such dread,
Concealed no longer, those eyes of coal.
Fear flounders through her free mind,
Take or leave him, up to the girl.
He’d always been so kind!
Tempting their fate, she asks, show me one last twirl?
Now he sits in her arms, the entire trip,
Envisioning the State of wet and dry.
At night he lies near her, with an iron-clad grip,
Sleeping soundly, never saying goodbye.