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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

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

So we go and we gravely read the stones
All those people, all lives
Where are they
With loves, and
And passions just like
were born
And then lived
And then died
It seems so
I to cry

You say : "'Ere the sun done salutation to the dawn"
And you claim these words as own
But I've read well, and I've them said
A hundred (maybe less, maybe more)
If you must prose/poems
The words you use should be own
Don't or take "on loan"
'Cause there's someone, somewhere
a big nose, who knows
And who you up and laughs
When you
trip you up and laugh
When you

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

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