Hunger Games Poem
By Cierra Davis

Effie Trinket

Happy as yellow

It taste like lemon pie, can’t get enough of watching people die.

It smells like roses, when spring is here

and feels like you just entered a dream of color and silence.

Sounds like someone who came back from meeting the Queen: so happy and strict about manners.

Looks like she was happier than on Christmas Day–

Happy as announcer that no ones claps for.