12 June 2012
White, red eyed, afraid,
I sit in this glass box,
Waiting for that sting,
Of the latest 'great' detox.
A treatment I don't want,
The substance hurts me eyes,
The lotions matt my fur,
And no one hears my silent cries.
My days consist of testing,
Mindless product abuse,
Why do humans do this to me?
My confusion is profuse.
They handle me with gentleness,
Contrasting in my pain,
For then they make me drink it:
Or take my fur to stain.
There's nothing to look forward to,
Except the very end,
The time my eyes don't open,
And I no longer must defend.
It's sad that I must be this way,
That humans just don't see,
How vindictive a product test,
Can unfortunately be.
Lab Rabbit. • Opuss № I