My bunny's round, and tall, and wide, and fluffy,
her eyes don't shine blue and she can be quite blunt,
some can't accept that, they turn and leave and grunt,
I think they're wrong, I like my bunnies puffy.

Where they see flaws, I see a bunny, stuffy,
who tries her best no matter what is the stunt,
who's nice and gentle, her rudeness just a front,
although I won't deny, she can get huffy.

Her softness's a gift, a pillow always warm,
and her eyes, though an abyss, they fill my heart
and light it up, like of fireflies a swarm.

There's nothing I would let set us to apart,
for me protecting her is simply the norm,
and for her, being perfect through flaws, is an art.