And her cheeks were stained blood red

She was five when Fluffy died.
He'd escaped from his hutch,
The car couldn't stop.
Blood stained his snow-white ears,
His cotton-wool tail twitched one last time.
She cried when Fluffy died.
They buried him in the back corner of the garden.
She cried as dad drove the wooden cross into the ground.

Fluffy had a brother.
He didn't have a name,
He was just specimen 46.
Experiment 46 was a success,
Cheek blush 46 was soon on the market.
46 rabbits died for cheek blush 46.
Fluffy's brother should have felt proud,
But it's hard to feel proud when you're dead.

Now Fluffy's grave is covered in weeds.
Fluffy is just a memory lodged in her mind.
She is sixteen now.
She sits in front of the mirror,
The colour enhances her eyes and lips,
She is pretty.
She dabs gently at her cheeks, blushing them red.
She smiles as she walks to the dance.

In the back corner of the garden,
a magpie lands on the wooden cross.
Fluffy's brother doesn't have a grave
... And her cheeks were stained blood red.

Damien Lawson, year 10, Port Lincoln SA