At the End of Every Rainbow By

March 28, 2011
By Malori Schabloski SILVER, Oshkosh, Wisconsin
Malori Schabloski SILVER, Oshkosh, Wisconsin
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

We sit down at a fancy restaurant.
I'm wearing my favorite dress.
I take a sip of my crystal clear ice
water and suddenly my entire
body gets the chills all the way down.
It doesn't bother me though.
I'm used to the feeling of being cold
and numb.
I glance at the menu and my stomach
growls but I ignore the hunger pains.
Inside I feel so confused and choked up
like I have a big chunk of pepper caught
in my throat.
I look into his eyes as he looks into mine.
Sometimes I wonder if he knows how I
truly feel about him deep down inside.
Most of the time I feel like my life
is a confusing algebra problem
that I'll never figure out.
My life circle never seems to add up
to three hundred and sixty degrees.
My mom tries to tell me not to
worry because there's always a
pot of gold at the end of every rainbow.
Well, all I know is I sure as hell
haven't found it.

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