It may be simple, it may be complex; it may have a name, but no gender or sex; it is often a question, or statements as a setup; it tend to have an answer, ’till you find it won’t let up. What is it?

You answer me, although I never ask you questions.What am I?

What is the end of everything?

It is of no use to one, yet absolute bliss to two :
The small boy gets it for nothing, The young man has to lie for it.
The old man has to buy it, The baby has right.
The lover has privilege, The hypocrite has mask.
To the young girl, it is faith; To the married woman, hope.
To the old maid, it is charity, What is it?