I pulled out your favorite blanket—
The blue and green one, with a penguin wearing its colorful little jacket.

Eager to see you press it close and cuddle
I rushed to you, my steps a hurried riddle.

“Look, look what I’ve found!”
My voice was a melody of joy unbound.

But you took it, casually, like any other cloth,
No spark, no laughter, no nostalgic oath.

My heart faltered, a stitch undone,
The threads of memory fraying, one by one.

“This is my favorite blankety,” you’d proudly declare,
A constant companion, beyond compare.

Not a moment passed when it left your embrace,
Clutched so tightly in your little safe space.

And then I realized—the past tense.
A quiet tremor, emotions condensed.

The world I knew had shifted its way;
You weren’t my baby—not in the same way.

A precious truth slipped through my grasp,
A fleeting treasure, too tender to clasp.

You’ve grown, as time has willed it so,
And I wondered—will love, too, outgrow?

The thought chilled me, an icy embrace,
Fear carved its mark on my weary face.

But my eyes found the wall, our pictures lined,
Each year a fragment, a tale enshrined.

Each photograph bore a different friend,
Toys and trinkets that met their end.

But as I looked closer, one thing remained,
A bond untouched, lovingly sustained.

The toys may change, the world rearrange,
But our love—our love will never change.