I'm So sorry about the format for the poems !!
We all sat in pleasure as Cameron was in dismay. Charlie took it out on Cameron harder than the rest of us. Cameron had spoken of a horror story that everyone was scared of when they were seven, but Cameron still held onto the admiration towards the poem. Pitts picked up the old crusty book, and flipped through the delicate pages till he landed on one that suited him.
""In a mean abode in the Shankill Road
Lived a man named William Bloat. Now he
Had a wife, the plague of his life, who
continually got his goat. And one day at
Dawn with her night shift on, he slit
her bloody throat."
"Oh, and it gets worse" Pitts and Meeks laughed looking down at the book reading the next part of the poem, a few laughs slipped through the lips of my peers and even the crumbs of the snacks.
"Do you wanna hear a real poem?" Charlie laughed giving me his usual toothy grin meaning something was about to be no good.
"Want this?" Pitts asked handing the book over, but Charlie forcing it away.
"All right? No, I don't need it. You take it" Charlie said finishing his sentence from before and answering Pitts' question. He began to stand up loosening his grip that wrapped around my shoulders, part of me wished he hadn't put the other part wanted to see what Charlie had done. Chatter and laughter filled the cave as this wasn't something that would be expected from Charlie. He didn't seem the poetry guy unless there was a side of evil next to it.
Charlie grabbed a piece of paper out of his Welton coat pocket in a prideful manner, he slowly unraveled his piece of poetry, the face of a women began to reveal, then the bare body of a women glistened in the cave. I looked over at Eloise who had the same expression as I. We both turned back and let out a laugh as the boys gawked over the women in the paper.
"Where did you get that?" Cameron's squeaky voice squeaked out, his question being ignored by the whole group as their attention was on the picture.
"Teach me to Love? Go teach thyself more wit:
I, chief professor, am of it.
The god of love, if such a thing there be,
