It's the day before Easter and all through the house,
there's not a egg to be hidden not even for the mouse.
The baskets are tucked in the closet back there,
in hopes, no one will notice how they lay bare.
The teens are doing their own things unaware,
that the magic of Easter cant be found anywhere.
I feel very disillusioned. No, I did not just find out that the Easter Bunny is not real. Tomorrow when I wake up there wont be any eggs hidden in all the usual places. I know that I'm 18 and I'm getting too old for things like egg hunts but I still feel sad that I wont be able to make fun of my parents for not being original in where they hid the eggs, or search the house frantically for that last egg that we are just told has money instead of candy in it, or find that egg with money that we never found the year before. This Christmas we wont be able to laugh about the egg we find when we are redecorating. I guess the hunt isn't what I will miss, it's the memories that come with it . . .
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