Shadows abound, surround and shatter,
In the midst of it all, in the center,
A little boy stands.
Innocent as ever, never in sin,
He sucks his thumb, the youth.
In his hand is a simple brown bear.
In his life, yet unknown to him,
He will be ridiculed, purged in sin.
He no longer is the youth.
He has moved on, to the next generation,
Pot smoking, dope hoping, sex driven.
He is no longer innocent.
Murderous, slanderous, and defiled,
These are what he has become.
Ashamed, tired, and scared.
He moves through life slowly,
Never getting to his dreams.
The gunshot sounds off.
He is found, dead as a knob,
Never to move, never to sob.
He is gone, his soul in Hell.
How the mighty hath fallen,
How the good gone bad.
No mourners has he.
For he left them behind,
To start his sinful life.
This is the ultimate price.
No matter what he has done,
He will always have my sympathy.
For to me he was lost.
Without a shepard to guide him,
A broken life, broken dreams, and shattered hearts.
Nothing good did he have.
But wait, what about that bear?
That object of his, he was holding.
It lay tattered and torn.
Through the years it rotted,
Never loved, never cared for.
Just like the boy.
A lesson from this must be learned,
Do not follow the lost, do not stray.
For the best looking path may be worse.
Just stick to your dreams,
Stick close to your hopes and desires.
And with all good faith, we'll have our loved bears.