Sinfest walks up and notices a soap box that doesn't seem to be used for anything but people standing and giving a speech of some sort. Sinfest then feels the need to express himself like so many have before him. He pulls out a beat up journal and pages through it trying to pick a good page to recite. He almost squeaks in excitement as he finds the perfect thing to read out loud. He then looks around and not caring if anyone hears him or not, He steps onto the box and clears his throat. 

"Hello Ladies and Gents I just felt like expressing myself today and this is a poem I wrote when I was not but a boy, but is still true to my heart"

"Life

The time has come to let everyone know

Life inst perfect, not a put on show

You have to try hard and never give up

Give it you all, Don't act like a tiny pup

If you given crap and told to stop

Give them the bird, make your finger go pop.

All that matters is what you think

Anyone who disagrees probably cant stand their own stink

Life has its up and it has its bad days

If you give it your all in the end it pays"

Sinfest finish his poem turns bright red and looks down at his feet and steps down from the soap box to let someone else have their turn. He secretly hopes someone can step up and share a poem of theirs and waits to see if anyone does

T-Man step up on stage and begins to read a poem

"I'm a member of the mafia…I guess.
We carry black books as our currency.
We win, and don't settle for less.
We are a family with no mercy.
I wish I could say we were friends,
But that's only for show.
We would watch each other fall on our heads,
And not even blink for the foe."

T-Man steps of the stage hoping for a clap

It begins in Oceans.

I take to these Streets when I have something to say

My detractors have for me a bill they want me to pay

I always urge and ask and plead for them to just go away

To leave me be and, not hang around, fuss, argue and stay

And what happens, what happens to little old me?

My name’s Estebano, Estebano Kuklinski

Well, my friends, I guess that we’ll just have to see.

After listening to the pretty average rhymes being belted out on this lovely summers day, Favara spotting his chance advances and mounts the soapbox for all to see.

Nervously he fumbles through his many pockets and produces a crumpled up sheet on paper stained by many coffee marks.. He peers at his audience, clears his throat and begins this masterclass in ryhme.

Ahem.

There was a old woman from Ealing,
Who had a peculiar feeling,
She fell on her back,
And opened her crack,
And pissed all over the ceiling.

And with the smuggest of grins, Favara runs toward the darkness to produce another foul mouthed ode.

There once was a group called The Doors

Who sang in dissent of the mores

To youth they protested

As witnesses attested

While the leader was dropping his Drawers

Dem roses red

Dem violets blue

Dat pizzas red too.

Stack dat dough

fo sho

Just a lil somein somein ya hurd.

~DoughBoy in da house reppin da big apple