I remember,
my friend,
who, every time there was a rainbow,
she would cry.
I was worried,
and I asked her why.
What she said made me cry.
"My brother died," she said,
"And he liked rainbows."
My friend is long gone.
She moved to Florida.
And now as I look upon a rainbow,
I cry,
As a reminder of my friend.
And when a person sees me cry,
They would ask,
What was wrong and I would begin,
I had a friend...
[I wrote this poem in fifth grade and it was published in a book!]