Greed

Greed sits away from me, disguised as me. Greed slips past my security, steals from me, insults me. Greed pretends to be me, charms like me, laughs like me, lies like me. Greed escapes, having devoured me, diseased me. Greed is now airborne. It is a whisper. It is a doubt, a shadow in your house. A commando, a spy, an agitator. It bites, maybe not you, maybe not me, but him and her and them and they, they who sit away from me, who take from me. Greed is now airborne. Greed is now me.