Stuffed Lives

I beg my mom to get me every single stuffed panda

that she and I can find

my own young innocent hearted way

of giving them a new home

even in fluffed and stuffed form

It feels like the only thing I can do,

while they cry and die miles and miles

away from my reach

Their dwindling numbers

makes my big heart

in my little chest

weep along with them

Their soft black and white

plush filled bodies

squeeze close to mine,

a sea of stuffed comfort

drowns me in sorrow

as my little hands

try to squeeze my youthful life into them

trying to turn their lifeless eyes into mine,

hoping that maybe if I squeeze hard enough

I could teleport my little mind

from these stuffed representations

of the animal who needs a savior

to their home that lessens day by day,

from the big adults who don’t ever seem to care,

in hopes that if we trade places

and I help them escape

then I could save them