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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

A sunny day
So I meet you at the cemetry
Keats and are on your side
A dreaded day
So I meet you at the cemetry
and Yeats are on your side
While is on mine

So we go and we gravely read the stones
All those people, all lives
Where are now?
With loves, and
And passions just mine
They were
And they lived
And then they
It so unfair
I to cry

You say : "'Ere thrice the sun salutation to the dawn"
And you these words as your own
But I've read well, and I've them said
A hundred (maybe less, maybe more)
If you write prose/poems
The words you use should be own
Don't plagiarise or "on loan"
there's always someone, somewhere
With a big nose, who
And who you up and laughs
you fall
Who'll you up and laugh
you fall

You say : "'Ere done do does did"
Words which could only be own
And then produce the
whence was ripped
(Some whore, 1804)

A dreaded day
So let's go we're happy
And I meet you at the gates
Oh, and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded day
So let's go where wanted
And I you at the cemetry gates
Keats and are on your side
But you
weird lover Wilde is on mine