Davy Jones, may you rest in peace,
A lifetime of The Monkees biz.
But death deemed that your gig must cease.
With no ifs, ands or buts - just tiz.
Though a shortie, you had those cutes
That made the girls (and some boys) swoon,
Chasing your star in hot pursuits,
As you hit hits from tune to tune.
You made Daydream Believers of
Generations that with you stayed,
As old dogs still in puppy love
With The Monkees as we all grayed.
Death took you, Davy, on leap day,
Most famous so far, so they say.
Comments about this poem (Davy J. by Ima Ryma )
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