Odeous Ode to Money

Oh, money, money.
You devour time, and yet
we cannot eat you.

Your cold, papery skin
is rough against my palm
but that's okay
'cause I've still got some calluses.

It's fair that you act invisible around me,
because it's true:
when I spend you, I thrust you into the hands
of a total stranger
and forget all about you.

How I wish you weren't around long enough
to tempt me!
Only to retreat into the shadows
of corporate nothingness and vague tomorrows.

You are the saving grace of the hungry
and the crippling vice of the fool.
And here, again leaning in the doorway
I hold a candle out in hope
that the light will call you out to remember
what good things you can accomplish.

I hate you, money.
I need you, money.
(No, I only think I need you...)
Can we work something out?