If I had breath 
I would be holding it
at every turn.
My brothers and sisters
are snug and tight
against the heavy cloth
but I swing in the cold air,
certain at any moment
that I must surely fall.
I pray my master
will put a hand down
and catch me,
or at least notice me
before I tumble into the void.
Not that I don't yearn 
to leave sometimes,
to see what the world is like.
Half the time
we're all stuck
in this dark cupboard
and the other half
we're carried here and there
without so much
as by your leave.
I saw a couple of buttons
as eyes on a teddy once.
I'm sure their lives were
ten times more exciting.
Oh, there goes another thread
and we're still out
crossing the moors.
Just look at all the mud
beneath his feet.
If only he would notice,
if only he would give me away
or sew me on forever!