Death's so selfish
It cares not at all
What day of the week
It happens to visit
Like unwanted in-laws
That overstay their welcome
All it leaves are
The unwanted dishes and
The certainty of future visits
We cling to our own mortality
So viciously
Living vicariously through our decendents
So furiously
Visiting our sins on our daughters
So curiously
Why don't we ever grow up