A grey little rabbit deep in a hole
Burrowing in the dark
Prepared for hibernation
But Spring has just begun.
He covers his ears but the birds sing
Thumping his foot in frustration
There’s no carrots left
He must search for a mate.
Rumour has it there might be a god
The church doors are locked.
There’s a leaflet that encourages prayer
Wasted on the homeless.
The rabbit scrunches his nose
His fur is dirty and his feet are muddy
He must survive and must reproduce
While hiding from his fate.
There’s a passage somewhere in the bible
That promises good can happen
But only if you’re sorry you were ever born
And you can stand receiving no answer.
On the eleventh hour we can beg
On the eleventh day look for a rabbit’s foot
In the eleventh house on the street
Cheat death eleven times.
There’s a rabbit running in the grass
He fathered eleven children.
He lived through eleven winters
But there were no carrots left.
About the Creator
Rose Pelos
-Poetry- -Short stories- -Children's stories- Science Fiction - Plays- I mostly write as a hobby, but would like to turn it into a career one day. I have been writing my entire life, and getting myself into gear by finally posting!
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