My Little Teddy Bear

There it sits on my bedside,
Tucked away, out of sight.
Slouched and folded,
Saggy and balded.
It’s eyes of black beads staring at me,
bringing back the memories.
Around the world, he comes along,
Canada, London and back to my home.
So why do I care?
So much about this little old bear?
If you think about it,
It seems quite fair!
All my life, he’s been right there