Does death die?

Does death ever die?
I have seen a raccoon while driving
On my way dead on the road,
With its intestines splattered all around its skin
And looking infested. 

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I grimaced and remained self-contained because he was reminding me of my ground reality, my poverty. Being a son of a farmer who worked on the farm that hardly yielded enough crops, I could barely have two pieces of clothes in a year, nor quality flip-flops to wear, let alone shoes. He was right that one should be lucky enough to acquire such privileges as he was in.