Poor old angry bear,
Torn and tattered,
banged-up head,
Knocking on brick walls again.
Rest, my bear friend,
The otters are here,
clinging,
So you can float free
For just a short while.
Grab the hand of that small one fuzzy bear,
The one you have hugged so often,
Hug her again, so she too can rest.
We will hold you up,
We will hold you both.
Otter Cynthia
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