Too Old

His sad, unblinking eyes stare at me.
Why did you leave me? he seems to call.
I grew too old for you, I say to him, as if he can talk back.
He stays in his never changing position,
Perched on the sunny window sill.
A bright smile stitched on his face,
Faded green buttons for eyes,
His ears worn down from years of play;
His expression never changes.
Dust gathers on top of his soft, fuzzy head.
It gathers on his colorful arms and legs,
Candy-colored stripes running down them
Still warm to the touch,
As if I had only just put him down.
His face is full of longing,
A longing to be played with
Once more.
It’s as if he’s frozen in time,
A time when I was still a child,
Pigtails in my hair, a smile on my face,
And never-ending energy.
He sits patiently, waiting.
He waits for a hug that will never come.