Here's a poem I wrote about Rue's reaping. Most of it I had to make up. It's for English homework next week.

There I was in the square,

Waiting for the district escort in despair,

She was to send us to our slaughter,

A mother was to lose her daughter,

I was standing with children also twelve years old,

We stood together in the cold,

Our escort finally walked on the stage,

Some of District 11’s citizens went into a rage,

Yet she still continued her speech,

Even though she knew that angry citizens were within her reach,

The same Capitol propaganda played,

Panem’s history portrayed,

When the video stopped,

Silence had dropped,

Time had come to pick two of the district’s youth,

Judgement time, a moment of truth,

A white envelope was taken from the female reaping bowl,

I could feel intense fire burning in my soul,

The fire increased as it was revealed,

I was the unfortunate one, whose fate was sealed,

Many were looking at me,

Some sympathetic, some watching in glee,

Knowing that they were not picked for the bloodshed this year,

And yet my mother was the parent selected to jerk a tear,

I joined the ridiculously dressed woman, in front of the district’s population,

My face to be shown throughout the entire nation.

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