Because I would not stop for Death he chased me down the street. Clackety-clack-clack went the sound of his bony feet.
People stopped and stared at us as we passed them by. A jazz musician waved his hat which looked like a pork pie.
Death raised his scythe up high,
intending to strike me down,
but a passing dog tripped him up
and he fell hard upon the ground.
He broke apart on impact.
His bones scattered every which way.
Every dog in the neighborhood
enjoyed a treat that day. -- Jeff Barnes
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