Flowers bloom,
Susie notices,
While the weather looms.
She blithely sings,
"All is sunny, despite the heavens' gloom..."
But, near a tomb,
Old Man Witherspoon
Says it only spells of doom.
With spirited skips
She twirls
As her hair billows and whips.
She courageously croons
Songs of praise crawling from her lips.
But, near a tomb,
Old Man Witherspoon
Yells, "All only smells of doom!"
Then the storm clouds corral
Them both and open fire
Like a showdown at the OK Corral.
Witherspoon bawled: "You're happy to die?!"
She countered: "No; but die happy I shall."
But, near a tomb,
Old Man Witherspoon
Shouts, "Your death only tells of doom!"
She heeded no single warning.
Blissful, the winds lifted her
Into the dark morning.
See, Susie had determined,
"If I must die, I will not die mourning."
Meanwhile, above a tomb,
Old Man Witherspoon
Cries, "Life is merely tales of doom!"
Then suddenly, beneath a fine awning,
Susie's eyes flashed open
To embrace the dawning.
Her frantic pants were slowed
By a gasp of yawning.
A new aura filled her room,
Her bed caressed her
As her mind began to zoom.
She arose in shock by the beaming sun
And the flowers' bloom.
See, Susie never heeded a single warning,
She ignored many blessings—
Until that morning.
And from thence determined,
"If I must die, I will not die mourning."
Susie leapt & left from that room,
And ventured somewhere—
It was near a tomb.
She sat next to Old Man Witherspoon
And crooned a tune: "All will be sunny, despite the present gloom..."
