This is in Fox Face's POV in a poem, her last moments before death. This is a free verse poem so that is why it doesn't always rhyme or follow a direct bet.

Drifting

I sometimes find I'm drifting

through the arena without effect;

I often wonder if I'm truly

In this hell or is it a dream?

I often try too hard I find,

To see and analyse,

To scrutinize, investigate

I try to find out others' lies.

For somewhere deeper, there must be

Some meaning to this torture,

Some method to this madness,

Capitol; I ask you to give a reason for my strife.

I was never a rebel,

I kept my head down low,

When my friends got reaped,

And killed with a single blow.

Is there some hidden meaning?

Some agenda to be found?

A greater purpose waiting

If I care to hang around?

It teases and it taunts me,

Always slightly out of sight;

A hazy vision out of reach,

Where darkness hides the light.

I struggle to bring clarityTo what awaits me there,

And yet this weak illusion

Always fades before my stare.

It seems the harder that I try,

To focus through the haze,

Just serves to add more questions,

Through my endless, tired gaze.

I was never a rebel,

I kept my head down low,

When my friends got reaped,

And killed with a single blow.

Perhaps I'm trying just too hard,

To understand Panem's war,

For can we ever truly know

Just what we have in store?

I am so hungry now, I don't know what to think,

The capitol they will kill me,

It's not flexible,

I know that even the victors have to die,

The capitol kills them too, it's not negotiable.

I was never a rebel,

I kept my head down low,

When my friends got reaped,

And killed with a single blow.

I see some more opponents,

Or could they be my friends?

In another time, perhaps,

But soon their lives may end.

I know I have to bring myself down low,

And steal some food to live some more...

But do I really want to?

Do I want to live to see the end of this ghastly war?

I'm sure I could die happy,

If I had the strength to end my life,

At my own hand, maybe?

I could do it with a knife...

No, I decide,

I will live to see another day,

Even though I may not like it,

For I am a coward, whatever others say,

I see a boy collecting berries,

They look edible to me,

I am so hungry now,

Would he notice a few gone, really?

I sneak up behind him, so close I hear him breathe,

And take a few red berries

From his little pile,

They look a bit like cherries.

I was never a rebel,

I kept my head down low,

When my friends got reaped,

And killed with a single blow.

I take a bite,

They are so sweet,

But I collapse to the ground,

What is happening, why can't I move my feet?

Am I going to die?

For the first time in my life, I wonder if I have been tricked,

My cool is all gone,

Are these berries poisonous? Will my death be quick?

Now I feel so broken,

And confused as I feel now,

While questions bring no solitude,

To life I take my final bow.

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