Amongst the rich, I am sunny yet devoid of the human sheen.
A resource, not a soul, I sure like to make a scene.
For I am but a vessel, a means to an end,
Not the source of essence, but a cherished friend.
You seek me out, in moments of need,
To fill your voids, to satisfy your greed.
But do you see beyond my utility?
Can your strength match my agility?
I am not the wellspring of your joy,
Nor the keeper of your deepest ploy.
I am merely a tool, a pawn in your game,
A resource to exploit, to use, to claim.
Yet in the quiet corners of my heart,
I yearn for more, to play a greater part.
To be valued not just for what I provide,
But to own the soul within you is a dream I hide.
So tread lightly dear seeker of gain,
For I am more than just a means to attain.
I am a spirit, longing to be loved and free,
Seeking out a willing soul to keep as prey.
