Ready to write of a face statuesque
Peeta sits down at the chair at his desk
His pen hovers over the paper, so white.
How to do justice to beauty so bright?
He ponders, he pictures the face in his mind
The brunette, his jewel, the gem of mankind
The girl who inspires both laughter and pain
With that telling thought, poet's words start to rain
And setting his pen to the paper before
Visualizing his darling once more
He scribbles down words, hardly lifting his head
Voicing the sentiments he left unsaid.
"Hair of an angel of heaven on high
Face so beautiful I can't help but sigh
Features set perfectly into her face
Never once failing to make my heart race
Eyes like the grayest of clouds in the sky
A smile so bright it can only imply
This girl is truly a gift from my God
I look on her beauty, utterly awed."
Satisfied, staring at these words he wrote
Imagining her standing, hearing him quote
His poetry to her, revealing his heart.
And then he recalls they are so far apart
He thinks, "I could mail this, tell her of my zeal
Dreaming of love that she, too, might conceal."
But no, it can't happen, he just can't reveal
The love and affection he can't help but feel.
His fantasy fades, he remembers once more
He has not the courage to say "I adore."
For if left unreturned, his young heart would break
Much better to bear this constant, dull ache.
And so, for the fear of unrequited love
He chooses again not to inform his dove
And slowly he lifts up the poem so brash
Rips it into shreds, and drops it in the trash.