I lean against the pine tree with my axe set beside me, and my pad and pencil in hand.
"Would you hurry up with that, Dev?" my father Aaron exclaims.
"Let me just finish this stanza, and then I'll get choppin'," I shoot right back.
"And be quick about it!", my father exclaims yet again, unloading all of his body strength into his axe, hammering away at the pine. I, Devin Qurstil, being a 15 year old, from District 7, write poetry as a hobby and a sport. I have made several pieces, about differating themes. I am now qualified to start out at being a lumberjack, as you start out after your fifteenth...
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