The Rabbit

His stitches are like scars, each one has a story,
The back and forth game of tug of war,
Cooking in the kitchen,
The roaring blade of the washing machine.

Each stitch has a meaning, each story must be told
The dog's mouth like iron steel, not letting go no matter how hard I pulled,
The faint sounds of the cooking mixer why did it stop,
The washing machine's playing up. Who broke the blade.

He has stuck with me through thick and thin,
From the minute I was born to the present day,
He is a security guard in the night,
But a comforter in the day.

He may not look like much,
But he is mine and I won't let him go.
I will protect him like he has protected me,
He is my bunny.