A/N: Here's the 2nd one. My goal is to put up a new 1 everyday.
Disclaimer: I'm not the awesome Suzanne Collins.
Their sweet, soft melodies often fill my head
up until the moment I lie down in bed.
But while bed is gone, their music is not.
In fake trees they plan on, I hear them a lot.
I want to be a bird, that is my wish;
my word wants to be heard, not head on a dish.
I love pretty voices I do rarely hear,
that's why her soothing voice soon drew me near.
Now that my belly's full, I am sleeping tight,
however, this does not null my fear of the night
when my fellow tributes, in sky see my face
and in these deadly games, I will have no place.
My stomach is now filled, not with food but beam
I fall asleep into my musical dream.
A/N: R.I.P. Rue.