The Pot of Gold

Bustling crowds,
People everywhere,
Yet I was so alone,
The chirping birds sang a slow melody
Making music to my ears,
The warm breeze swept across my goosebump cheek,
I looked up in the sky,
To see a vibrant rainbow,
I looked down sorrowfully,
To see my reflection in a small puddle,
The town carriages rushed through,
Splashing me up to my shoulders,
Rippling my reflection,
Rain started to pour,
I thought to myself,
Oh when will my pot of gold arrive?

~ Anonymous, year 8, Glenunga International High School

German Banner, Migration Museum