Chris Brundidge 2008Chris Brundidge 2008


Jones 101 72


Division Bell Rings... Jones sings... "We are the world, we are the children" A swarm of grey follicles filled with facts Hair like a hurricane, but attendance lacks Spiffy Hippie look alike, but can't play Hackey-Sac Despite the colored button ups and the shirts patterned with plaid. Needed beaded jewelry that surely protects the neck While praising pupils with Shakespeare scriptures like Hamlet and Macbeth Purging pens by the plethora every single week As snarling plastic crocodiles are biting at his feet. Yes Mr. Jones was the best, and his desk was a mess But he could enliven a saddened soul that's surrounded by stress Knowledge counted colossally, the quantity's too much But he wasn't strictly business; Oh my God he cracked us up. The man could make you smile and laugh at any part of the day And when the Division bell sang and rang, he would always say. "We are the world, we are the children" Now would Mr. Jones want our souls to be purely filled with sorrow? Because he is in our hearts right now, and he will also be there tomorrow.


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