Because I could not stop for death,
He kindly stopped for me,
And knock-ed on my cottage door
To serve me poisoned tea.
"I know you're young," said this man Dread,
"Yet even youth take time to be dead.
I have never been a respector of youth!"
"And you," I answered, "Are most uncouth!
How dare you bring your rot to me?
You with your obituary?
For I am not finished, I am not done,
I will have my say, every single one.
And God is standing at my side,
Away on His Plan I intend to ride!
The story may yet come to an end,
But you will not an addendum rend.
For my story, there is a SEQUEL!
And you, Mr. Death, are not God's Equal!"
(Apologies Dear Emily, I love thee....but I like my version better!)
