Death? Does it come in daily frustrations,
    folding inward upon the self and closing?
Does it come greeting company hereto,
    providing sympathy, but never gratifying?
Does it come with timely measures
    of production only Death sees procrastination?
Does it provoke consummatory transactions;
    one at the end of the stick, the other authoritarian?
Does it cause one to freeze in position,
    catatonic and reptilian?
Does it provide the invisible barriers;
    hard to hear the soft spoken?
Does it appear in disguise as happiness contented,
Or does it whisper to the ear the various "potion"?