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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