I am a rich man’s dream

And a poor man’s prison

People lie, cheat, steal and kill for me

It’s hard to say

Whether I am the cause

Or the solution

To all of life’s problems

People can’t get enough of me

No matter how much they have

Like an addiction

But it’s not called an addiction

Because I am not a drug

People lose sleep over me

People slave night and day for me

People will do almost anything for me

But I am not love

In fact, I don’t have any feelings at all

But people feel good when they have me

And feel sad and angry

When they don’t

I start wars

But I don’t fight in them

I start arguments

But I don’t have a voice

People who have me are deemed righteous

And people who don’t are deemed fools

You’re lucky to have enough of me

Even if you have a good job

But you can’t live without me

Go ahead and try

You can’t go to school without me

Or go to the doctor

Or have a roof over your head

But I don’t care about you

I am utterly indifferent

To whether you live or die

I don’t have faith or morals

And I certainly am not virtuous

In fact, I come with great vice

The people who have the most of me

May be guilty of great crime

And are less often punished for it

I am not your ego

Though we go hand in hand

I am not your friend

Though you love my company

I am not your master

Though I am a tyrant

Who am I?

I am your currency

I am your dollar

I am your money

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