It's a beautiful world
Lot of beautiful people
With a lot pretty faces
Do you know which ones
You wear among those?
Mr. Jones

It's autumn and the leaves will fall
Like quills from a pigeon
With a white dove that sits on a road of cobblestone
As you get naked, do you know what
You're made of is stone?
Mr. Jones

Is it a massacre or a blank verse
Often, a book of Shakespeare may entice Juliet's memory
Sometimes the roses die and thorns live on
As you write your poetry, are you sure
You wish to live on with the poems?
Mr. Jones