I cannot possibly be the only one DYING for the leaking gas pipeline along the East Coast to get fixed and gas prices to go back down! Seriously, for a girl who has to pay for her own gas (totally not complaining, mom and dad), I watch those gas prices like crazy. I'm the type of person who will easily travel 10 miles across town for gas that is six or seven cents cheaper. Bad logic, I know.

TRUE STORY: Friday morning, I nearly filled up my gas tank, well aware of the leak after watching the news, and also managed to warn EVERY SINGLE SOUL I ran into during the day to get their gas then. By the time I was out of school, the price of gas had risen exactly twenty-two cents.

But on a different note, I decided to write a poem about this tragic event:

Gas levels may fall, but the prices stand tall

and I cannot help but cry.

I want to buy clothes and look good as I pose

But like the gas, my wallet is dry.

I want prices to go down, and to flip this frown

But all I can do is sigh.

Everyone thought I was crazy and my judgement was hazy

But they cannot deny

The prices are bad, making us all sad

and turning each of us into a house-fly.