A/M: This is super random, I was just in math class and this is what came out of the doodling... i'll continue is I want to, I might not.
The Hunger Games in rhyme!
I wake up on the reaping,
Confused to where Prim is sleeping,
Prim is awake, sitting in bed,
Hosting nightmares in her head,
I get up, and go over the fence,
The air between Gale and I is tense.
After having a quick yummy meal of bread,
I go back to face the doom ahead,
I tell Prim to tuck in her tail,
And then my fears begin to sail.
I stand with the girls my age,
And stare at the reaping balls with rage.
I awaits the dreaded time,
When Effie's horrid voice would chime,
Happy Hunger Games to all,
Soon, that is what, Effie would call.
Then the time comes, just as I fear,
"Happy Hunger Games!" Effie cheers.
"Let's hope the odds are good for you,
And in your favor too."
Effie reach's into the girl's cup
And slowly pulls a slip back up,
Effie clears her throat and lets out a cry,
"Primrose Everdeen," No! This must be a lie!
I stand,
with a shaking hand,
"I volunteer as tribute!" I declare
Effie is confused, but then repairs.
"Wonderful!" She purrs with joy.
"Now we must pick a boy,"
Effie reaches once again,
Into the reaping ball full of young men,
"Peeta Mallark" Effie , said.
I gasp, Peeta once gave me bread!
I was sad, and alone,
Things were really tough at home,
Peeta threw me some burnt bread,
Putting some hope in my head.
Peeta and I slowly walk up to face the crowd,
The room is quiet, not loud.
They place three fingers in the air,
To show me an Peeta that they care.
"Congratulations to our district twelve tributes!" Effie exclaims,
"May the odds be in their favor!" She proclams.