The little boy from District Two,
Picked on, bullied, they called him weak.
Compared to their jeers, their mocks, the many insults that they brew,
His tiny voice was just so meek.
The young boy from District Two,
Lifted weights, exercised, he worked hard just to stand a chance.
Compared to their brutal kicks, their harsh fists; Surely his crowd would boo.
But through his countless many bruises, at least he perfected his battle stance.
The energetic kid from District Two,
He's grown so much! His mother swooned.
Compared to the petite child from before, he was a survivor from the little few.
That's a lad, his father crooned. Soon, he thought, very soon.
The egotistic kid from District Two,
Flaunted and daunted and oh so very wanted,
By the numerous several as he soared and flew.
But that kid from District Two, he didn't realize his life was haunted.
A/N: So, um. Cato. Hunger Games. I have a new fandom. Yay?